REFLECTIONS: What we are called to do

Rounding the corner of the airport and seeing a huge group of family and friends holding signs and cheering for us was an amazing feeling. As soon as I saw them I realized just how many people had been praying for us throughout the week and I felt a strong urge to go hug every single person and personally thank them for all their support. Amidst all the hugs and all the excitement to see and talk to everyone I couldn’t help but feel a little weird. Usually big groups like this only show up to welcome people when they've won a National championship, come home from war or done something heroic, but we didn’t do any of that. We gave up 8 days of our summer to go and do what God has called us to do, we did some lawn work, dry walling and painting and hopefully touched a few lives, but after seeing all of the devastation and destruction of New Orleans and all the work that needs to be done our work seemed miniscule, insignificant and certainly far from heroic.

Leaving N.O. I was heart broken, I wanted to do more, I wanted to stay longer and make a bigger impact. I feel that I probably gained more from this missions trip than any of the people I helped and for that reason my excitement was somewhat tainted to be welcomed home with cheers, posters, cards and balloons.

As my family drove home from the airport I found myself looking out the window the whole way home. I found myself expecting to see boarded up beat up (or abandoned "for sale") houses, FEMA trailers lined up by the street, giant Xs on the houses, piles of garbage and moldy old construction material, blue tarps on the roofs covering escape holes and overgrown lawns with 5' tall weeds. Instead what I saw was one nice house after another and it seemed really weird to me, there was nothing even remotely resembling the destruction I had seen all week wherever I went in New Orleans.

When I got home and walked through my lovely house I couldn’t help feeling bad, I couldn't help thinking of Ericka and Lester and wondering when they'd get to return home and what about all those people I hadn’t met who might have years before they get into their homes? I was "uncomfortable" (if you could even call it that) for one week before returning back to my damage-free house, but these people have been suffering for 2 years and will continue to suffer for who knows how much longer.

After getting settled in at home and eating supper I went to bed, looked around my bedroom and into my open closest. I thought about all the other rooms in my house and everything they contained and tried to imagine losing all of it. I tried to imagine having water as high as the tallest pole from the memorial in my house. I thought about what it would be like to have to evacuate my house for every storm warning. How would I feel watching the news and seeing my home underwater? What would it have been like if I had been one of those people who stayed during the storm? What would it have been like to see my stuff quickly being overtaken by water? What would it have been like to watch my dad or my brother cut a hole in our roof so we could escape? How would it have felt seeing my neighbors trying to escape or just wondering if they had? Would my whole family have made it and what about my little dog Skittles? Would we be separated? What would it be like to stay in the Superdome with all those people? What would it be like living in a tiny little trailer in front of my destroyed house after the storm? How would I feel driving around and being reminded of the hurricane everywhere I went?

After thinking about these things I found myself thanking God for everything he has given me, he has blessed me with so many amazing things and I know that I definitely appreciate them more thanks to this trip.

Today I found myself feeling extremely lazy and wishing I were doing something useful. A part of me was longing to be back in New Orleans finishing Ericka and Lester's house (or anybody's house) so they could move back in. Throughout the day I kept checking the blog and looking over the old entries, looking on Facebook to see who had put their pictures up, looking through my own pictures and looking at all my dad's pictures. I couldn’t help but keep going over everything I'd seen and experienced while in New Orleans, all the people I'd met and all the stories I'd heard. Sights that I had seen kept flying through my head, the giant "field" that used to be a highly populated neighborhood with housed only 20 feet apart, the man sleeping on a bench of a bus stop with nothing but a small bag that he was using for a pillow and the clothes on his back, Antoinette with the metal apparatus on her face who had gotten her jaw broken when she was mugged for five dollars, and so many more.

I also found myself remembering (I don’t think I'll ever forget) the people of New Orleans and their attitudes, how they were filled with hope and gratitude, how they were so welcoming and had such positive attitudes...thinking about this encouraged me, even though I was one of many people who have gone down/will go down to help, every single person I talked to genuinely thanked me and this is one reason that I know that our team did make an impact even if it seems small.

I'm so glad I went on this trip and feel blessed to have been given the opportunity. God taught me so much and displayed his power in so many ways. I came away from the trip having strengthened relationships with my team mates and with God and I took away so many memories and stories and for that I am extremely grateful.

- Shara Linscott