Learning to wait without losing time

A week ago this morning, I woke up to find my life had changed.

A year ago this morning, thousands of Alabamians woke up to start to go through the rubble of their homes, neighborhoods, communities and towns and realize their lives were going to be different, too.

I am not comparing my little tragedy to that of a year ago. I know what my family is going through is not uncommon. I only have to walk outside to the waiting room to see that it's not "just us." And I have heard from so many friends and even strangers who have similar experiences, so I by no means think we are unique.

I do hope that the commonality of what I'm going through has allowed me to perhaps express your thoughts and remembrances, hopefully in a good way. I've always said the writers I connect with best are the ones that after I read I think, "I have thought that" or "I could have written that." Back when I was a wannabe musician before I'd play a particularly good song I'd introduce it as, "I was writing this song the day I heard it on the radio." That wasn't original with me, but it's the best way I've ever heard to explain how some words connect with us.

A year go, April 27, 2011, the landscape of Alabama and the lives of so many Alabamians were dramatically changed. A year ago, a series of tornadoes and high winds swept through central and north Alabama. Sometimes we get so caught up in Tuscaloosa - and I have no problem with that, the devastation there was horrible - that we forget that earlier that day high winds blew through Cahaba Heights and Vestavia, and after Tuscaloosa there was Pratt City, Phil Campbell, Webster's Chapel,Shoal Creek, Hackleburg, Moody ... dozens if not hundreds of communities that were damaged and, in some cases, nearly wiped off the map.

Despite the damage done to our own property, it didn't take long for MG head down to Christian Service Mission to volunteer. She went down to do anything the executive director, Tracy Hipps needed, and fully expected to just be sorting supplies or taking phone calls or even making deliveries. However, it wasn't long before Tracy recognized that MG's talents were logistics and organization, and he'd hired her to coordinate volunteers, to find out needs and match up supplies and workers. I can remember MG calling me to say Tracy wanted to put her on payroll, and her saying she didn't want to do it to get paid. I, of course, said there were benefits to actually being "staff," and she could do with the salary whatever she wanted. To this day, I don't know what the agreement is.

I do know that - like anything MG does - it became personal. I hope to share some of the emails and facebook posts I have received from her new "family;" the people she has come to love during the last year.

Today and tomorrow, there will be remembrances and dedications. MG was so looking forward to these, particularly in Pratt City, where she has devoted so much of her attention these last few months. I am grateful to the people in Pratt City - and Mt. Moriah Church - that said they would just move the dedication/remembrance to the hospital to be with MG. Of course they can't do that. They shouldn't. They need to be there in their community, where so much work has been done even as so much work remains.

SB wrote a wonderful blog about the meaning of 'tornado'. I can't top that.

Once, years ago in my reporting days, I did a story that I was very proud of. It just so happened I knew five coaches who had been touched by cancer in one way or another, and they were all one year apart. Since the five year mark is, very generally speaking, a significant milestone for cancer survivors, it was an interesting look at five people at five different stages of survival.
One of those stories that stuck with me was the person I spoke to who was past that five year mark. He was very honest, and said something I have never forgotten. He said, "When it first happens, you always talk about how your life will never be the same. But the truth is - for me anyway - it's been five years and finally my life feels 'normal' again. I don't think about it every day. I do all the things I did before. Maybe the best thing is to be able to say my life is, finally, the same again.''
There will be people who disagree with that, and I respect that. But it made a lot of sense to me, and when I share that story with people, many nod their heads in agreement.

I think about this in terms of the people of Alabama, specifically the people of Pratt City. What happened that day/night a year ago was indeed life-changing. In some cases, it was life-ending. Those people will never be forgotten.
But for the living, there is a chance to start over and make it better. In Pratt City, in particular, I know Christian Service Mission and others are building newer, better houses. I have shared with MG, who I know has shared with many of CSM's partners, the concept of developing economic incubators. You take a few abandoned storefronts, or you build some small buildings on a cleared out space, and rent those for very little money (it's not a money-making endeavor for the property owner, it's a community service) to start-up businesses for a specific period of time - I've seen it done for as little as three years, and as many as eight. The goal is that somewhere along the way the business develops enough to be able to move out or, perhaps, start paying full rent. But the real concept is to have a rotation of businesses that come in, start up, become successful (or fail), and move on to make way for another.

In short, I see this as opportunity for people to not "get back to normal" but to create a new "normal." It would be a shame if that doesn't happen, but it will take long-term commitment to relationships, to encouragement, to ideas and volunteers and the willingness to try and share and watch out for each other.

And then I come back to my personal life-changing situation from a week ago. Honestly, selfishly, I spend a lot of time wondering how long it will take to get back to "normal,'' which means - to be coldly, brutally honest - how long will it be before I get to do what I want. That's a terrible admission. But really, in the story of the world from my perspective, I'm the star and the rest of you are supporting actors. I work every day to change that perspective, but it's very, very difficult.

One thing I have tried to do in this blog - particularly the most recent blogs - is be as honest as I can. Oh, I am not sharing every detail, because some things are and should be private.
But two years ago when I finally made a career change and stumbled into this new career path that I'm on, I realized that I had convinced myself I couldn't do anything other than what I had been doing for 25 years. So I desperately clung to that occupation - which, let me say, I enjoyed and loved almost every minute of; and don't think for one minute I did not. But I had convinced myself that my identity was defined by what I did.
MG and I have often talked over the last two years that we don't ever want to fall into the trap again, that we don't want to let what we do define who we are. I have, I admit. It's hard not to. I guess it's a "guy" thing, or maybe an "American" thing.
I know MG loves working for CSM. But I also know the week before this happened, she called me and told me she was thinking of quitting. See, we'd taken a week to celebrate her 50th birthday (and she won't mind me saying that; she was proud of having turned 50). We went to Memphis and Greenville SC and Asheville NC and finished in Charleston, and had a great week together - eating too much, not seeing enough, even getting run off a golf course.
She called me early the next week and said, "I'm really feeling like I need to quit work and just be available to you." We'd always talked about how when our youngest graduated high school she'd move to where ever I was working, so we knew that was going to happen eventually.
"But,'' MG went on, "then today, it was one of those days where I just saw God in every conversation, every decision, every volunteer. I don't know how to explain it, other than I'm just so blessed to work here, with the people I work with, and to experience God in such a real way every day."
Needless to say, I encouraged her to keep on, that "our time" was coming.
"I never wanted you to quit," I told her. "I've seen too much of God at work in you and - by extension - me."

Now, quite unexpectedly, we're getting a lot of "our time.'' The "availability" she talked about wanting to provide to me will now be my decision to make, as I figure out how to be available to her. I don't know how we'll make it all work. There are questions I have, plans I'm trying to make, schedules I'm going over in my head. Who does what? What do I need to do to the house? Where do I get help? How much help can I get (as much as I need, I know- and thank you) but not make MG feel I've abandoned her to other people while I do "my thing?"
And why am I already feeling guilty about things that haven't happened?
Our good friend Lynn Lloyd sent me a note, reminding me of something she remembers MG telling her: Lynn wrote: "She told me once that "Lynn. why worry? Most things we worry about never happen & if they do, we can't do anything about it but look at all the worry free days we have had."
Oh, how I need to talk to MG, to get her thoughts and feedback and perceptions on how to make these next few months work, to balance the short term need with the reality of planning for a long-term "normal" life.
Even as I write that, I realize I really don't have the necessary information to even begin to make plans. I've just got to take it a day at a time, and wait.

I hate waiting.
But I know this: when you wait on God, you're not losing time.