Pastoral Pondering

by Pastor Keith Larson

Last night was a “perfect” summer evening. I went for a bike ride and riding into Rustic Park, I realized there was an elementary girls’ softball game. I stopped and visited with folks under the shade trees while parents, grandparents and friends got excited about base hits and great defensive plays on the field. When I got home, Ginger and a friend were sitting talking together on the front porch swing. Later another friend dropped off a some books for me and together the 4 of us sat in good conversation on the porch for another 90 minutes. That was an idyllic evening of picture postcards and the “good old days.”

All of this was in stark contrast to a trip I made to Iowa City on Thursday, June 12. I can only describe that day as surreal. Driving through rain, thunder and lightening, the radio station was in “emergency” mode. There was one announcement after another about evacuations and road and street closures. A short distance ahead of me, the flashing lights of an ambulance headed towards Cedar Rapids added to the direness of the day.

I met with other conference deans and the Bishop. This was our last regular meeting with Bishop Hougen. Most of the meeting was reporting about the effects of flooding on all of us. The conference dean from the Cedar Rapids area is pastor in Vinton, so talked to us by phone as the Cedar River was cresting in Vinton as he was on the streets with his members. We spent more time on the phone with our local representative with Lutheran Disaster Response. When I headed for home, they closed Highway 1, just as I approached the Cedar River and reports and rumors were that others roads were closing. So for a short while I actually wondered how I was going to get home. (And that is amazing as I pride myself in knowing more routes to Iowa City than most anyone else around knows. In another 24 hours, there literally were no routes between here and there – well there was one “short cut” on gravel roads on high ground between the Cedar and Iowa Rivers that no one talked about).

We wish all our days could be like Monday summer evenings on the front porch, instead of Thursdays in the midst of disasters. Yet we live in a world that has as many Thursday disasters as Monday evening porch times. I am reminded of our brothers and sisters on the Palestinian side of the wall in the Holy Land who live with constant road closures enforced by soldiers not because of natural disasters but because of political decisions. Losing home or business or crops to floods is indeed horrific, but millions daily live with the fear of missiles, bombs, and gunfire destroying their homes, businesses, and lives.

Many of us know people who were severely impacted by floods and tornadoes, and some in our church family have been temporarily displaced and have difficulties enough. While we do not know people in other parts of the world who suffer from disasters – natural and human-generated, each of them shares with us the same core of humanity that would prefer the comfort and joy of a relaxing evening on the front porch with friends. May God provide for us enough calm front porch time to give us strength to face the hard times when they come and to provide aid, support, and comfort to those who face the hard disaster times of life.