November Reflections

Hello friends!

I am sorry I have not been doing a great job of updating this blog. They don't joke when they say this city never sleeps! (let along blogs...)

One of my requirements for MVS is to send in bi-monthly reflections. I thought I'd post them here too. Happy reading!

The phrase echoing throughout the house ever since I've moved in is, “Trust me, this is not how the house is normally.” I have yet to experience a week of “normal” is at the Menno House.

Here’s a taste of what the house has been like since I moved in:

In mid-September, Linda Hood, head of the Menno House board, beloved spouse of an MVS committee member, and cherished member of the Manhattan Mennonite Fellowship community passed away very unexpectedly. The house was host to a wake and gathering of remembrance throughout the rest of the month.

Throughout the month of October, the roof was being re-done. Construction workers come in and out during work hours, upsetting my typical lazy Monday morning routine; I have the day off as I work most Saturdays. The roof remains unfinished, and winter is fast approaching.

On October 29, Hurricane Sandy struck most of the North East coast. Needless to say, it was poor timing for a roofing project. We were without power from Monday night through Friday night. The city was completely shut down on Tuesday, and mostly down on Wednesday. Lower Manhattan resembled a black hole.

Menno House is back up and running, however one of my housemates has a hole in his ceiling, and another housemate’s room is inhabitable. She’s not sure where she’ll be staying for the next six weeks until the roof and her ceiling are fixed.

According to the news, there’s a snowstorm heading our way expected to hit on Wednesday. We’ll see how much it slows the city’s recovery.

 What have I taken away from this series of strange, unexpected events?

We as humans are not actually in control. As much as we try, in 24 hours, everything we planned for can be wiped away. Sandy was sobering and humbling for the city, and for me. My mom was visiting me at the time, and she was supposed to fly out on Tuesday. The airport didn't open until Thursday. It was so strange to work with her as she checked her flight updates, and realize her flight was pushed back yet again. No one can predict what the weather will do, and as much as we try to gain control of the situation, it is out of our hands. Why is it that we as humans struggle to learn this lesson? Why are we surprised when something like Sandy comes through and wipes out our man-made structures? These things happen often in our world, but we always think it’ll never happen to us. Until it does.

It was sobering to see lower Manhattan pitch black. There were no traffic lights or street lights, so walking after dark was a feat in agility. You would pray the cars would see you and stop. I heard stories of friends volunteering in Chinatown, and the gratitude the residents showed upon receiving a bottle of water. How is it that this city, once so admired, looked to as a place of fashion and business, be so crippled by a 24 hour event, that its residents are joyful for a simple bottle of water?

Five days after the hurricane, I took a walk to the river. The water was calm. I couldn't believe it surged high enough to explode the power-plant, and cause massive destruction across the city. It’s sobering to realize that something so calm and peaceful, when in the right circumstances, can turn so deadly.

While on the river walk-way, I saw a man out for a run with his dog. The dog found a huge stick, and was wagging her tail and flaunting her stick, as if it was the best thing in the world. It was strange to hold these two things: the city is badly crippled, yet some things remain the same, such as a dog’s love of a stick. I thought, “I only wish I could be that happy over a stick.” Then I started to wonder, what is my stick? What simple thing in life makes me so happy I would wag my tail and flaunt it around so everyone else would be jealous? I haven’t been able to answer this question yet. All of my answers rely on technology, such as watching my favorite TV show, or texting/calling friends and family back home. You can’t do any of that when you don’t have electricity. How can I live more simply, and remain joyful?

The city and my house are putting the pieces back together. Some people are still residing in emergency shelters. Others are living in their homes without heat or running water. Menno House is trying to figure out how to move forward without Linda’s guidance and support. Your prayers for the victims of the storm, and for the grieving community of MMF are appreciated.