On November 17th, 2013 Central Illinois experienced a series of tornados that swept through and destroyed many things that were in it's path. Many homes were destroyed and lives were changed in an instant. Many places were greatly affected all across Illinois and the Midwest, but Washington, IL got hit really bad.
Earlier this week I had the opportunity to travel to Washington Illinois (which is about 30 minutes away from my university) with a group of my fellow Redbirds to do some tornado disaster relief. Students across campus were notified by email about this opportunity and I couldn't pass it up. I am a firm believer in servant leadership and that I am called to serve others, and this was a perfect moment to do so.
I woke up that Monday morning and checked the temperature outside only to find that it was a mild 15 degrees. The ground was covered in snow from the previous couple days. I won't lie, for a moment in time that morning I was not excited to be spending my whole afternoon in the cold cleaning up debris. But I had to stop and scold myself. It's
not about me in any way, shape or form. Instead it's about Him and giving Him the glory in all I do. And if that means that I am serving Him by freezing my butt off outside while helping make an impact in a hurting community, then it is
totally worth it.
I bundled myself up and marched on over to our departure place for the afternoon. I was probably a sight to see in my millions of layers. I had on 2 pairs of pants, 2 shirts, a long sleeve shirt, a sweat shirt, pair of wool socks, gym shoes, hat, 2 pairs of gloves and a winter jacket. I was now both physically and mentally prepared for anything that was to come my way that afternoon. Or so I thought...
It took our van about 30-40 minutes to get to Washington, IL and once we did I was shocked at what I found. Previously that month I had seen pictures of the destruction that had taken place after the tornado, but nothing could have prepared me to see what I saw. We drove in silence through part of the town before we checked in to the church. I could feel hot tears swelling up in my eyes, the kind of tears that you cry in anger. During our drive through the city of Washington all I could do was think 'Why? Why them? Why so much damage?' The town was eerie and had a strange, but hopeful spirit looming around. Some homes were untouched, while other homes were just gone. Nothing was left, but the foundation that was planted firm in the ground. It was the same foundation that those home owners had built their families and lives on.
The church gave us a small orientation session where they explained the need for help and why they felt God calling them to serve. They gave us some pointers for working out in the community and some safety tips. They equipped us with hand warmers (which were true life savers!), rakes, shovels, gloves, face masks and goggles. Then we were off on our way!
We started off at a small house that was still partially standing. When we pulled up to the house a million thoughts were going through my head. The only thing that was left of the house was the kitchen, part of the living room, some of the walls of the garage and a solid wooden staircase that led up to what used to be the second floor of the house, but was now gone. At this house we mainly cleaned up the items that were closer to the street. We sorted through piles of wood and bricks. At one point I ventured up towards the house to take a look at it and clear some of the items off the lawn. While I was on the front stoop of the house I found a plaque placed on the front step that said 'Home is the heart of the family'. I had to stop a moment to think about this and the placement in front of this partially destroyed house. A family's home is truly where a lot of memories happen. It might be where a baby's first steps were taken, birthday parties were had, both good & bad news were shared, but most of all memories were shared. My heart ached.
We spent most of the rest of afternoon digging through a pile of debris that was in front of another property. The task at hand was to separate out the items in the pile into smaller piles of wood, metals, electronics, cloth and personal items. We started out pulling bricks and wood from the pile. Occasionally a school notebook would be found or toys that once belonged to a small child. Then there were items that made me take a step back and think. We found pictures and old family photos. Letters that were from old family and friends. Certificates of appreciation. We found a drivers license, Social Security card, and passport. An old photo album with pictures from the 1940s was found and salvaged. All of the items found were little, beautiful treasures buried in the ruble. It was strange to me to be searching through someone else's things and helping to determine if they were 'savable' or not.
At one point while I was taking a handful of pictures that I had found over to the box deemed the 'picture box' I saw a little wall sign placed perfectly among the pictures in the box but was still sticking out to where I could see it. The sign read 'Remember how blessed you are'. That was when it hit me. Too often I get caught up in the stuff of life that weighs me down. I get discouraged or frustrated with things that I shouldn't be upset about. I always need to remember that life is beautiful and that I should never take anything for granted. That little sign reminded me how important it is to count your blessings and be thankful for what you have.
That Monday will be one day that sticks in my thoughts and memories for a long time to come. I will remember the individuals that were grateful for the help. I will remember the other people we worked with to clean up the debris that came from both near and far. I will remember the teamwork and dedication put forth by 10 college kids during their stressful week of final exams. I will remember the sights, sounds and the feeling of being in a town that is so hopeful in this devastating time. I will forever remember the beauty in the broken.
[Peace&Love] Jenny
