In the early days of May, 2010, many parts of Nashville were devastated by major flooding, such as had never been seen in this area.  The rivers were so backed up and the ground so saturated, that even tiny drainage ditches sometimes became raging torrents.  Rivers like the Harpeth, Mill Creek, and of course the Cumberland were further out of their banks than anyone could possibly imagine.  So many lives were touched, thousands lost homes, places of business, etc.  Many areas of downtown, especially those nearest the river were underwater for days.   Because the area is so hilly, the flooding was unpredictable and frankly, a little strange.  There would be a neighborhood where dozens or hundreds of homes would be a total loss, then a street or two over, no high water at all.  This “random” nature led to (I think) a spirit where thousands upon thousands of folks just rolled up their sleeves and pitched in to help.   I wrote the following piece on Thursday, May 6th.  

In the aftermath of the Nashville floods, stories abound of people offering extraordinary service to others.  I want to share one simple act that I encountered that just took me completely by surprise and moved me quite deeply because of its profound generosity.

Like most everyone in the Nashville area, we know numerous folks who were affected by the floods. Yesterday, my 14 year-old son Brendan and I went to help in the cleanup for some friends whose home was destroyed.  As the Harpeth River swelled beyond its banks, Mark & Cindy’s house had begun to fill with water, and like so many others they lost essentially everything.  They made it out with many of their family photographs, a few cherished mementos, and some of their clothing, but everything else …  EVERYTHING else … was a complete loss, including the house itself.

Those who study such things say that this was a “1000-year flood”.   A thousand years.  It was brought on by over 14-15 inches of rain in just days over most of Middle Tennessee.   Oh, the river had gotten high before.  But for Mark & Cindy, it had never even come close to reaching their house.  So, like many others here, they had no flood insurance.  Wouldn’t have thought they needed it.

The destruction is hard to bear when you see it on TV. And then you realize it’s YOUR town, and so many people YOU know, and it’s doubly hard. But then, when you’re actually standing in a beloved friend’s living room, feet squishing in the mud and silt and smelly muck, and when you hug them through your tears and theirs, it’s almost overwhelming. Yet this is what’s called for, so you wade in, and along with a group of volunteers your roll up your sleeves, and help.  And you really don’t know what good you’re doing.  As you carry out item after destroyed item that represent many years of cherished times in that house, raising a family and sharing so many loving memories,  your heart breaks for them.  And though they smile and tell you that they feel lucky and blessed to have escaped with their lives, and to have been able to save what they did … you can’t help but wonder.   How “lucky and blessed” can they really feel?

How lucky and blessed can they feel when he has been out of work for almost two years…”downsized” in this economy and unable to locate a job… any job … in his field.   After two years of  scrimping and surviving on her teacher’s salary.  Then the flood…. I ask again, HOW could they possibly feel lucky?  How could they after all of this, continue to “count their blessings”?

So yesterday, amid the couple of dozen other volunteers that showed up at their house, my son Brendan and I helped sift through the remnants of a lifetime, and shook our heads in disbelief at the destruction. And cried.  Then we got back to work.

Fast forward to tonight.

Since Mark & Cindy are temporarily staying just up the street from us, I happened to run into her earlier as I was leaving the neighborhood, and had a chance to stop and chat with her a bit.

I told her that tomorrow I would be spending a good portion of the day with a young adult on the autism spectrum who has lost almost everything but the clothes on his back and a few papers he could stuff into his satchel.  He still hasn’t gotten back into his apartment at all to survey the damage yet, but it’s going to be bad.  It’s near the river, and is a ground-floor apartment in an area that we know had very high water.  It is very likely the waterline may have been higher than the ceiling in his apartment.  So I’ll be meeting the FEMA people tomorrow with him to see what can be done to expedite the process of getting him back into another place of his own, etc. I’ll also be taking him some donated clothing and gift cards, and he and I will make a trip to WalMart together to buy him some personal items so he can begin to regain a sense of normalcy and dignity in his life.

As I told Cindy all of this ….. the same woman whose OWN house is full of mud and filth and a total shambles… she reached out with obvious emotion in her voice and touched me on the arm and said, “I want to help. Can Mark and I donate some gift cards to help get him back on his feet?” Stunned, I told her that SHE is the one who’s also in need, and that it wasn’t necessary. But she continued, “No, WE are SO blessed, and we have more than we could ever need. Please, I want to help.”

Let that last statement sink in for a moment: “No, WE are SO blessed, and we have MORE than we could ever need. Please, I want to help.”

Wow.  “We have MORE than we could ever need”.

I wish I could adequately express in words how deeply this simple act of selfless generosity and love has touched me. I can’t.

I wish I could say that if roles were reversed I would be so generous myself in the midst of my own trials and misfortune. But I just don’t know.

Here is what I DO know.  Whether I choose to acknowledge it and act on it or not, I too am “Lucky and Blessed”.

Beyond measure.

In this moment and every other moment, please let me have the generous and compassionate servant heart of my friend.  And let me never, ever, forget her example.

Do the loving thing.
Do the loving thing.
Do the loving thing.

Sometimes it is quite simple, sometimes it is unimaginably hard.

Sometimes we’re not even sure what it is.

But it’s ALWAYS the right choice.

love,
John