Puerto Rico 3 years after Hurricane Maria
During the Rugged Spirituality Series, Pastor Lauren reminded us of the importance of connecting to God through nature; Pastor Wes’s imagery of digging our toes in the sand, a reminder to connect fully. My wife and I have been married for nearly 8 years and hope to expand our family soon, and as exciting as it is to think about the pitter patter of little feet from a miniature version of my beautiful wife, I can’t help but worry about the world we will be bringing them into. I work in Disaster Services for the American Red Cross, and environmental catastrophes are what I plan for, desperately try to mitigate, and respond to with more and more frequency. We talk often about our fears, and it’s clear that truly caring for our planet, making sustainable changes in our habits, has never been more dire.
Natural disasters are hitting at an all time high, three times more than in the last decade. We no longer have outlying bad seasons or project particularly bad years. Instead, long-range forecasts have become a thing of the past and the diagnosis has shifted from phases or seasons to generally “acute to chronic” in frequency.
Working in this unique space has blessed our family (and family to be) with a vantage point on the critical need to take climate change seriously. It offers a constant reality check, waking us up from our day-to-day routines and impulses without much thought on purposeful living. It forces us to recognize consequence of action and inaction, and the urgent need for our world to become a more resilient, loving, caring, and respectful place.
It is not a coincidence that the place I find the most resiliency, the most resourcefulness and compassion, is what the disaster community refers to as “blue tarp communities.”. From Puerto Rico after multiple Hurricanes, to the Florida Keys, Lake Charles, New Orleans, Joplin, all the small mountain towns sifting through the ash after yet another wildfire, the blue tarp communities sit on porch steps (that may be the only thing left of one’s home), and work to ensure feed, shelter and care for anyone and everyone. They are the most resourceful, finding creative ways to repurpose items salvaged from the debris. They barter and trade, and see nothing that could warrant judgement or distrust, only need. They have experienced a powerful reminder from God, one of gratitude and survival.
I see God’s image every time I land in one of these towns, just as the blue tarps are being laid. Despite the tragedy and turmoil that brought them to this point, those survivors are my true north and guide my experience in understanding that we can do it. We can live without constant consumption, without greed and carelessness. Even without cell phones and Netflix. I see it. I see it every day, year after year: humans coming together and lifting each other up.
Knowing that this innate instinct exists in all of us gives me comfort around the future of our family-to-be. We can do our part and raise our children to be resilient, environmentally passionate, and above all, loving, grateful and humble. I am excited for the future for our children because I have faith that even from the rubble after a devastating storm, human behavior is still, at its core, compassionate. We will take care of each other.
Today and every day, we pledge to reduce our footprint, recycle and reuse, repurpose not purchase, to vote and to be active in progress towards policy measures that align with the need for climate change reform. We pledge to give our children, all of God’s children, the best possible home we can.