A cleansing flood

Be careful what you ask for…

Exactly one month ago today Baton Rouge experienced a horrific tragedy. In this space I specifically asked God to “please have mercy on Baton Rouge and send Your peace to our city.”

I did not specify how I wanted Him to do it, I just asked. Needless to say, thirty-plus inches of rain is not really what I had in mind.

But it has worked.

When the rain began five days ago, it didn’t seem like that big a deal. When it didn’t stop on that Friday it started causing a few problems. When it kept going on Saturday we knew we were in for something. But I don’t think anyone could have predicted this…

Today we were finally able to get out and see the damage. What I saw was devastating, amazing and healing.

I drove to the neighborhood where I grew up. In the forty-five years since I moved away from Baton Rouge for the first time, the demographics of the area have changed. Jones Creek divides the neighborhood but showed no prejudice inflicting damage to houses on either side.

As I drove through I spotted a group of young men “mudding out” one of the houses. It was apparent they had been busy because a huge pile of wet and ruined property was out in the front yard. I stopped and asked them if I could go get them some food or something while they worked. One of the men told me they had just eaten but thanked me for the offer. He asked me what I was doing in the area.

“I grew up in the house on the corner of Cuyhanga and Sierra Vista. The one that sits right on the creek. I just wanted to see how bad it was damaged. How many houses have you guys already mudded out?”

“We’ve pretty much done this whole end of the street. Gotta get it out quick so it doesn’t ruin everything in the house,” he said.

At this point the owner of the house joined the conversation. He was an older gentleman and had heard me say where I grew up. “You a (the name of the family on the opposite corner)?” he asked.

“No, sir. I grew up across the street from them. We left in ’72.”

“These men are lifesavers, and they have helped us all. No way I could have done this by myself.”

The young man I had initially addressed said, “That’s what neighbors do, Mr. Joe.”

I told them all good luck and got back in my car. Mr. Joe was white and probably 80 years old. The young man and his entire working crew were all African-American and in their thirties. Keith told me he owns a construction company and his guys came over to help him help his neighbors.

Stories like this are happening all over the city. People helping people, because that’s what neighbors do.

I shouldn’t be too surprised God used a flood to clean things up for us. It’s not the first time He’s done it that way…

Flooding in our neighborhood

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