When I wrote "Tornado" a few days ago it was because it seemed like a good story. I almost left the word "surviving" out of the title because to use that word implied that there was a possibility of not surviving and honestly that thought never entered my head. I believed when I went to sleep that night that I would wake up the next day, though to what I didn't know. There were no fatalities that night and no reason to expect that there would ever be any this season. "Surviving" was just a word.....just a title....just for sensationalist purposes. I have since taken it out.
Who am I that I should even know one, much less two, of the young boy scouts who were killed in the tornado last week? I have been in Omaha for not quite two years. I have no kids the way most people my age have. I don't have teenagers to get me involved in the community. I feel like I know almost no one, although of course that is not true. But how on earth could I possibly know two.....????
In my usual fashion I considered skipping the memorial services. I sat at my desk. I prayed. What else could I do? I checked the news, I cried for these young children who would never get to live as grown-ups, I emailed my friends to pray. Then one of my co-workers asked me if I was going to one of the memorial services. "Are you going?" I asked her. "yes" she said. "Then I'll go too." I was going for her. I never know what I can do in those situations when I am not close to the families. I don't see what good my presence would do or how they would even know I was there. But I would go with my friend.
After making the decision to go to one, I decided that I should also go to the other one. I left work and went alone. The place was packed. I was the only black woman in the audience. Well, if you count the bi-racial teen then there was two of us. She looked at me accusingly (as teenagers will do), as if to say "you didn't know him, why are you here?" I just looked at her and smiled slightly, letting her know that she was right, I didn't "know" him the way she did, but sometimes adults just do things because they're the right things to do. I wasn't going to get caught up in race that day.
I wasn't going to think about myself at all. I could have easily sat there, a tall black woman with locked hair dressed professionally in a bright yellow bolero jacket and black slacks, amongst these plain Nebraskan folk, many of them farmers in their ordinary clothes, and I could have felt very much out of place. In fact for a few minutes I did. The people who normally hug me barely gave me a look. Some of them seemed to want to avoid me. "Why?" I wondered. "Is it because they don't want to show how familiar they are with me in front of all of these strangers?" No matter, I could forgive them and show them grace and mercy. Things will be back to normal later. I was not going to get caught up in my own thoughts and feelings of being an outsider, not now. This was not the time. The young man we were memorializing wouldn't have cared. That was his lesson, his example to me: to put my social anxiety aside and not let it get in the way of life.
He was the least self-concious kid I've ever seen. His total lack of self-conciousness reminded me of my brother when we were kids. This young boy scout was a constant reminder to me that life wasn't about appearances. He didn't seem to care that he wasn't "cool" or to even realize it. He was just a good, sweet, little kid going through that awkward teenage phase who loved God and who lived life with more enthusiasm than anyone I've ever seen. I have been self-conscious all of my life. But for Sam I would do this, sit here and forget about myself and just be a human being sharing in the feelings of other human-beings. And an interesting thing happened: My clothes and my race melted away and all that was left was me.
You can say as one of my Catholic friends did that God had no message in what happened, that sometimes bad things just happen. "Some people say 'everything happens for a reason" she said, "but that's not true. God does not treat us like pawns in a chess game. He loves us more than that." These were her words, and I mostly agreed with them.
OK, not pawns. Not chess. Not a game. But God doesn't interfere? Are you kidding me?? Has she READ the Bible??? God does nothing BUT interfere. It's good because it's the only way we know he exists. I didn't say anything. Riding home from the memorial service wasn't the best time.
What I don't believe is that 96 people can be hit by a tornado in the middle of a wooded campground surrounded by trees and ONLY 4 of them be killed. Have you seen the pictures? That place was destroyed. THAT is the miracle. But then why those 4? I don't know. But read 13 year-old Sam Thomsen's sermon that he read at church just a few months ago. If it doesn't move you or touch your heart, you don't have one. Then let me know what you think.
2 comments:
I thought of your "tornado" blog when I heard of those tragic events, and the deaths of those poor Boy Scouts. Being so far from Omaha, it was hard to get news and names, other than the basic facts on CNN. I'm glad that you went to the memorial services. You are like me, in that I would really struggle with that decision, and worry about what people thought of me going to a service for a boy I barely knew, if at all.
But it was the right thing. You are not only a better person for doing the right thing, but you wrote about it, shared your story, and now you are not just a better person for it, but an example to others who would feel the same way. I will think of you the next time I am called to "be there" and show support for someone I barely know.
Bless you.
How touching. Thank you. Yes, sometimes all you can do is just show up and it's enough. You know, what I didn't write is that at the 2nd service I attended people who knew me actually came up to me one after another and seemed to draw strength from my presence. It was an interesting and I must add, astounding, contrast.
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