Lessons We Won't Learn

Tornados are still tearing up the country as I write this, across Arkansas, Missouri, Texas, among other places. Houses and businesses and church buildings are flattened along with some loss of life. It's a tragedy that catches our attention.

There is a sadder aspect of all this fear and destruction however that follows on the heels of these twisters. It is the thieves and looters (we call them carpet baggers where I come from) that descend upon those who have been devestated. They are an embarrassment to the human spirit of compassion.

In the days following the twister destruction in Huntsville, Alabama just a couple weeks ago there was one such low life who paid a high price for his low living. One shop owner in Madison County had remained in his store for the night because of his fear that such predators might be aroused by the power outage and overwork for the police. Sure enough, he was right and that evening when his shop was broken into he shot the criminal, killing him on the spot and sending him to a fair and immediate judgment.

In some places of this country this might have gotten him arrested. Not in Madison County, Alabama. When pressed by the media for "what happens next?" news the Chief of Police promptly, plainly, and publicly  explained that... absolutely NOT was the store owner going to be arrested or even charged. He then followed up with the explanation (and herein I quote him as closely as my memory allows), "because a person has the right to protect himself and that which belongs to him at ANY time and ANY place." You gotta love that state.

Robberies and looting dropped into single digit occurrances nightly around that area. I do not understand the judges and juries around this country that are in the mood to punish citizens when criminals break in, threaten, steal, beat, rob, etc and then get hurt or maimed in the process. The criminal is rewarded with cash and the citizen is punished. Alabama, let me salute you one more time, and your Chief of Police.

One sad note to this story is that the police did take the shop owners gun as evidence. He begged them not to becasue someone else would come in and rob him, but the police apologized and took the weapon anyway. It was procedure. The weapon was evidence and had to go in.

What is the lesson here that we must learn, but have so much trouble with? There are actually two. One is a bumper sticker. When guns are outlawed only outlaws will have guns. It is a Bible verse. Laws are for the lawful. Evil men don't turn in their guns, only good lawful men do.

The second lesson comes from the experience of the shop owner. Even though he did nothing wrong and was not charged, he was disarmed by procedure. The lesson is that one gun for protection is good, two would have been better.

More Tornado Talk

My last note was about how sweet Alabama really can be, even in the face of the recent tornado devestation. It was was an amazing thing for me to visit my parents in that area and help in a small way with their clean up. I've got to share a couple more things with you though that I saw that both warmed my heart and amazed my cynical self. 

I have mentioned that one of the twisters seemed to come to the fence around my parents land and then turned east to head down Pepper Road, taking out homes, barns and whatever else was in its way. One of the homes that was absolutely blown away belonged to Wade and Debra Sue Pepper. From a quick drive and look around the area one day it appeared that the walls of three very bare inside rooms was all that was left standing after the storm went past. No roof, no outside walls, no porch, just some lonely walls, beat up by the wind and void of any family possessions was was it looked like. It was Wade's farm machinery and trucks that I mentioned earlier that looked as if they had been tossed around like toys. 

I saw Wade and Debbie when we went into town on Saturday to find some breakfast at the same place they were. We greeted one another and spoke for a moment. Frankly I was at a loss for words to say to folks that had just lost every material possession. I was paying attention though, because I knew these folks. They are good people and have family roots here. I noted the bit of a tear in Debbie's eyes even while she smiled with Wade and spoke. No self-pity, no victims here. Wade said he wasn't sure what they were going to do, but they would do something. And they all kept smiles on their faces.

I saw Wade and Debbie again on Sunday. They were right where you would expect them to be, at worship. There were no lights at the building on Jones Road since the power was still off, but the windows were large. There was no microphone working, not any powerpoints on that Sunday morning, but Christians were gathered to give glory to God and the Peppers were right there in the middle of it. 

Here's the deal though. Let me tell you what I've been leading up to. New Testament Christians worship the Lord on the Lord's day. We sing, even if our hearts are heavy. We pray, because there is no one better to talk to. We praise God when the preacher preaches truth (and Norm Webb Jr. did that morning). We eat the Lord's Supper every single Lord's day because we are proclaiming His death until we see Him coming back again. And New Testament Christians give back to God of what God has blessed them with. We do that because we are Christians.

The Peppers were there to worship God at that building on Jones Road that Lord's day morning and just by chance I happened to sit in front of them. They did worship. They welcomed me, a visitor, and they chatted in friendly fashion. They sang and prayed and they ate the body and blood of Jesus. With all the destruction and fear that had blown through that community just three days before, I was thinking, the contribution's going down today. I don't know if it did or not. I do know, as the plate was passed as it is every Lord's day morning in that place, before I looked away, I saw something that brought a tear to the corner of my eye that saw the act. I saw a man, with his wife beside him, who had just lost his house, and business, and all his material goods in this world... when the plate was passed I saw him reach for his wallet to give. 

Sweet Home Alabama

Due to some changes at Spiritbuilding Publishing this blog has been on hiatus since last year. We're changing the format obviously, so tell me if you like the new look. If you hate it.. keep that to yourself.. :-)   I've wanted to share some things since then though, and the recent batch of tornado's that tore up God's country gives me a good excuse.

I was down in North Alabama last week checking on my parents since all communication was knocked out. I spent about a week there cleaning up and it was amazing. 

I could trace where the possibly F5 twister came across Hwy 72 and made a bee line for my parents house about 2 miles to the north. The path was easy to see on the highway from all the telephone poles snapped off, the toothpicks and brush where woodland previously stood, and the slab by the highway where the Bethel church of Christ used to have a building.  When you came up the road to my parents you could see where the pine woods that had stood tall and dark there for years across the road was now gone. And there, in front of my parents fence, fifty yards from the house, the tornado changed directions and went east right up their road.   Although fifty trees went down on their property, my parents never lost a shingle off their house. But that wasn't amazing.

Trees were down on houses, some of them covering them up. Some houses were gone, completely. Cotton pickers, and semi- tractor rigs, were rolled about like Tonka toys. Garages, barns, and sheds were gone. Vehicles were smashed and flattened. One long beautiful lane of Bradford pear trees is now a long lane of stumps with no sign of the trees. A nearby subdivision of half million dollar plus homes looks like those homes just exploded. What destruction. But that wasn't amazing.

On Friday my mom and dad (both 82) and I started cutting and burning on those 50+ downed trees. Before we got finished working, the neighbors college age daughter, Kala, came over and hauled branches for hours, laughing and smiling all the time. That was surprising. The next day she came back with her boyfriend and about four or five other friends and sawed, and hauled, and dragged more branches all afternoon. Color me surprised once more.

What was really amazing was that other strangers saw us working in this devestated area and kept stopping and offering us cold water and drinks, sack lunches, and ice. These good samaritans didn't identify themselves and no one in the group knew them. They were just driving around wanting to help. The day ended with us tired and satisfied, and with a couple of the young helpers approaching my dad and,,, get this... thanking him for the opportunity to be of help. 

Sunday we worshipped and rested and surveyed more of the damaged area, but Monday started the ball rolling again. Dad and I started cutting about 7 am. About 8, my brother Mark and his wife Lisa showed up with breakfast. Mark had been on 12-14 hours permanent shfts since he is a Lt. on the Huntsville police force. This was his first opportunity to come help. About 9, Jeff and Martha Archer, the preacher and his wife from the Jordan Park church of Christ showed up with their son. And the help kept coming in all day long. Members of the Jordan Park congregation just kept showing up. Kala sent her young crew of helpers back in for another shift. Some strangers just walked in off the road and stayed the rest of the day hauling branches. In the afternoon the coach and track team from Columbia high school walked onto the field and started grabbing branches. Six saws were working at one time, the burn pile got gi-normous, and about forty people finished up that job last Monday afternoon in record time with smiles and laughter. I was truly amazed.

The radio stations all turned into public service announcers and I was shocked by how many people called in with the same message. "Power is now on in our area at such and such a place. If anyone needs a hot shower, hot meal, phone or internet access, here's my address, come to my house." The only songs playing and being requested over and over were songs about Alabama, Sweet Home Alabama being the favorite. I have to agree wholeheartedly with the comment of one radio caller. In the midst of destruction and devestation I have never been prouder to say that I'm from Alabama.