Finding hope in the giving and receiving

EDITOR’S NOTE: This is part of an occasional series looking at

Newport-Mesa residents who have contributed to hurricane relief in

the Gulf Coast.

The man looked up suddenly when he heard a car door close from

across the street.

“How d’ y’all do?” he asked.

His neighbor looked up from his task of stuffing clothes into his

car’s trunk to say, “We’re all right. How ‘bout y’all?”

This could have been the scene in many neighborhoods in the United

States -- two friends who live across the street from one another,

stopping to share a moment.

But it was, in fact, a neighborhood in Metairie, La., a suburb in

Jefferson Parish just a few miles from downtown New Orleans.

As I write, I’m sitting on a stone bench, leaning against a block

wall at the home of Celebration Church in Jefferson Parish.

Here in the heart of the Gulf Coast, if a fixed item is made of

anything other than stone or block, it may not be found again. Homes

and churches along Utica Avenue were flooded with water that would

eventually recede, but not before inflicting horrible damage.

You’ve no doubt heard about the power of the hurricane that

barreled through the New Orleans region. I had.

But nothing I had heard prepared me for seeing whole trees, roots

and all, lying on their sides, or against homes. A few hours ago, I

passed by a mobile home that had been rolled onto its back by the

wind. It was lying near a 30-foot steel billboard frame that had been

bent in half.

I thought I had by then seen it all; then I saw the 10-foot long

skid marks that had been made by a car that was dragged backward by

the wind.

As horrible as the tragedy is -- and believe me, it is horrible --

I am finding hope that is being expressed in the most basic of ways:

through giving and receiving.

I came here, compelled by God to work through a collaborative

church effort that is being called the Newport Mesa Hurricane

Response. As Scott Lohrenz, a member of our team, summed up for us,

“Something had to be done,” and it really was that simple for us.

Since arriving, I have spent much of my time working alongside

volunteers from California, Louisiana and Texas as part of an

impressive movement known as Pastor’s Resource Council-Compassion.

At the hub of the effort is the Healing Place Church of Baton

Rouge, La. This network mobilized one of the quickest, most organized

responses in the aftermath of Katrina. More than 40 evacuation

shelters have been established; thousands of tons of food and water

are being directed to appropriate distribution points; donations are

managed; and most importantly, volunteers are received and placed to

go to work efficiently.

All of us from the Newport Mesa Hurricane Response came for

different reasons, but we have each witnessed the same thing since

coming -- an uncommon hope the people here have.

We met Chris Meilleur and Steve Lemoin, the facilities director

and information technology director for the Celebration Church,

shortly after arriving. Chris and Steve have such remarkable

attitudes. Their positions in this parish, both volunteer, now carry

an awesome responsibility. Instead of working on computers or

handling custodial responsibilities, these two now venture into the

streets of New Orleans and offer hope by way of food or a bottle of

water.

Our group from the Newport Beach and Costa Mesa area is working

alongside them, coordinating deliveries of food, water and basic

first aid supplies as their church facility is being transformed into

a distribution center.

“Normally, I work on the computers around here,” Steve Lemoin said

to me. “But, since the computers are flooded, and there’s no power to

run them anyway, now I hand out water.”

The people of Jefferson Parish have much to overcome, and while I

sit here on this stone bench, I can look around and see subtle

reminders of the hardships they face. For this week, the people of

Metairie have a few days to salvage possessions from their homes

before they face a voluntary evacuation, just a little less severe

than the mandatory evacuation being imposed upon New Orleans proper.

Signs of the aftermath linger through the necessary military

presence. Helicopters patrol overhead regularly, remaining ever

vigilant. Just a few minutes ago, a six-man armed squad from the

Arkansas National Guard continued a sweep through the streets of this

neighborhood, keeping an eye out for possible looters.

But even with these and other signs of this horrible disaster,

there is still a wonderful hope to be found.

Do you remember our two neighbors I mentioned earlier? They later

walked out to the middle of the street to speak for a moment. But

then they dropped the clothes in their hands and embraced, each

telling the other they were so glad they made it.

A little while later, one of the two neighbors drove into the

parking lot of the church to drop off some clothing and to say he

would bring more later. He was so hopeful.

And then, of course, there’s Rose Mosbey. On the way to her car,

carrying boxes of supplies she had received at the church’s relief

center, trailed by her grandchildren Tyler and Skyler, she fought

back tears and thanked us repeatedly.

Happy her family was safe and that they were all together, she was

as content with life as a person could be. And even though we gave

her something that she truly needed, she gave me something that I

needed even more: hope.

* BILL GARTNER is Senior Pastor of Harbor Christian Fellowship in

Costa Mesa.