Waldren Joseph

Couldn't post last night because of satellite internet problems...

Yesterday was an excellent day of hard, bust your tail kind of work. We were at the same site for the second day. 3 rooms left to clean out of debris and about half the house left on drywall removal. Our team made short order of the task. It was like a colony of ants, all working, carrying, hauling, loading, smashing. Fun times! Everyone's attitudes and spirits have been upbeat and encouraging. Any amount of hard work is made easier when the crew you are around is positive. And DP is definitely positive. Amen!

Waldren Joseph, the owner of the house, came by the house while we were working and what a blessing that was! I had the opportunity to interview him and his uncle, T.A., who lives next door. Waldren described his experience of boarding up his house and fleeing before Hurricane Katrina hit. Living on the road between Atlanta, Florida, and Louisiana, running from the storms and trying to place his children in safe places around the country with loved ones who would help provide care for them. His home has been his trusty Jeep Cherokee with a luggage carrier on the roof rack to store what little belongings he has left.

If I could describe to you his gratitude and his story, I would. But to hear him tell it was just phenomenal. He has been tired, worried, distraught. How am I going to clean out that house? How am I going to do it with all of those memories? It's going to take me "just about forever" to clean out my house. My mama is back in Florida worried sick and I don't want her to see all of this. It would just kill her. The week before Katrina hit he had gone out and purchased a couple of outdoor propane burners and big kettle pots to make up some gumbo, red beans and rice, and cornbread. He was preparing for a family gathering. To hear him tell it, "I was going to have me a real big picnic." What day was the party? The day Katrina came to town.

As he processed what was destroyed and what we were doing, and as each wheelbarrow and diesel truck bed full of his belongings went by him on the dusty driveway out to be dumped on the growing trash heap on the curb, I understood clearly and vividly that we were dumping his memories, his life as he knew it, his security, and his stability as well. "I'm trying to be strong, but sometimes I just can't take it." We encouraged him, hugged him, took pictures, made him laugh. Ministry happens in unusual places. Yesterday, it happened on a dusty road, on the Louisisana bayou, with a hurting soul.

Glen