I am spoiled. And I know it.
The last 72 hours have reminded me of that fact.
I've never gone a day without food (except voluntarily). I've never been without a place to sleep. My only stretch without electricity was during a freak snowstorm that left my family powerless for two whole days.
Being a part of the Nashville Flood of 2010 has jolted me back to reality. Coworkers are gutting their houses down to the framework as I type these words. Pictures are gone. Family pets are missing. Barns are upside down. A lifetime of memories in photographs, school projects, and letters are floating away.
Even though the only damage to my house was a gravel driveway that migrated down a few houses with the runoff, I find myself affected by the sights, sounds, and smells.
I have hugged my daughter more. Delighted in her laugh and her smile. I've asked people how they are doing, and I genuinely care about their answers. I am highly sensitive to the needs of people around me. I don't care about people cutting me off in traffic (we'll see how long that lasts). I am conscious of how much water I am using when I'm washing my hands or brushing my teeth.
Even though you may live thousands of miles from Music City, you can still be changed by the waters that are beginning to recede here. Learn from those of us who live by the makeshift lakes and impromptu rivers.
1.Keep your priorities. A dear colleague and mentor told me recently, "hold onto your job loosely and your family tightly." Wise words. The higher the waters got, the less I cared about whether or not I'd get that all-important presentation prepared. (It's still not done, by the way.) I was reminded that the stuff that I worry about most is the stuff that matters the least.
2. Listen, really listen. I think lots of people would be more honest with their answers if they thought anyone actually cared. People are desperate to tell their story—and everyone has one worth telling. Hearing how God has protected and provided for people in the midst of horrific loss is a testimony in itself. But there are hundred of stories like that waiting to be told.
3. Care for people, even if they're "undeserving." Most days, I filter my world through carefully constructed barriers that weed out the responsibility for caring for others if I sense they are unsafe, unsavory, or undeserving. And so do you, if you're really honest. But lately, a person's work ethic (do they deserve help?) or background (did they cheat on their taxes?), hasn't entered into the equation. They were neighbors in need of food, water, and a word of hope.
And everybody can use some hope, no matter where they live.
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