Spiritual Perspective:
Anyway...

By Kathy Coleman
Special to The Independent

I am writing from my home in southwest Louisiana, where we are taking yet one more walk of faith through the “hurricane season.” We are not the victims of the 2005 Hurricane Katrina, but of Rita of the same year.

So violent was that storm, so devastating to our area, that a prayer for safety, written 50 years ago by Bishop Maurice Schexnayder, was resurrected and placed in the pews of our churches. I pray it every day.

The prayer begins: “O God, Master of this passing world, hear the humble voices of Your children. The sea of Galilee obeyed Your order and returned to its former quietude. You are still the Master of land and sea.

“We live in the shadow of a danger over which we have no control. The Gulf — like a provoked and angry giant — can awake from its seeming lethargy, overstep its conventional boundaries, invade our land, and spread chaos and disaster.”

Fifty years ago this very summer, that angry giant awoke with a power never experienced before in our area. Our land was invaded by the deadliest hurricane in the history of southwest Louisiana. Her name was Audrey. She was the reason the hurricane prayer was born.

Even today, 50 years later, survivors speak of past tragedies “whose memories are still so vivid and whose wounds seem to refuse to heal with the passing of time.”

The people knew Audrey was coming, and when. Those living right on the Gulf also knew they had 18 hours to evacuate. They went to bed as always, prepared to leave the following day. But while they were sleeping, the storm changed its course and came thundering to shore hours before expected. Men, women, children, infants were swallowed up by giant Gulf waves. So strong were the winds that homes, boats, and vehicles were tossed and thrown in a million directions. Devastation was everywhere.

A small fishing village right on the Gulf Coast was one of Audrey’s primary targets. You might recognize the name of that village because it made headlines again when invaded by Rita in 2005. The village is Cameron. It would sadden you to know the number of times hurricanes have attacked this little town. At the same time, you might be inspired to learn that each and every time the survivors returned to their village, mourned their losses, counted their blessings, started the clean-up, and began building — again.

When I was younger and heard the TV weatherman begin charting the course of the latest hurricane, I would pray: “Dear Lord, any place but Cameron.” What was I thinking? That God was planning where He would direct the hurricane? That maybe He hadn’t finalized His list yet, and He might not include Cameron in the mix? The truth is, I wasn’t thinking. I just knew who to go to and who to talk to. I got that right.

Today I know that, since God is Love, I will not attach His Name to or blame Him for anything that is not loving. I will not speak in any way that might suggest that our Loving God could ever or would ever inflict harm, send a catastrophe, will a disaster.

Then, some might ask, where is God when tragedies strike? He is right there. He has to be. And what is He doing? I believe God is crying along with us. Loving us. Comforting us. Offering us hope so that we can go on.

“And we go on” would be a great motto for Cameron, Louisiana. The people are still in the process of recovery, for the umpteenth time, doing most of the work themselves. Their faith is a powerful witness, their perseverance amazing.

Every time I pray for them and countless others like them, I sing the words of a beautiful song. Entitled “Anyway,” inspired by a book of the same name, the song is sung and co-written by Martina McBride. The first verse captures the spirit of the heroes I celebrate today.

The verse goes: “You can spend your whole life building something from nothing./One storm can come and blow it all away./Build it anyway.”

We are experiencing a calm and peaceful hurrican season in Louisiana at this moment.

Our “hurricane prayer” concludes with expressions of thanks as we pray:

“O Loving Father, animated with a true spirit of gratitude, we walk in the footsteps of your divine Son, to reach the heavenly Jerusalem where a stormless eternity awaits us. Amen.”

In those times in life when it is so difficult to dream of a stormless “Any Place,” dream it ANYWAY!

Kathy Coleman, originally from Louisiana, has been a longtime volunteer for the Diocese of Gallup. Messages can be left for her at (505) 722-5485.

This column is written by area residents, representing different faith communities, who share their ideas about bringing a spiritual perspective into our daily lives and community issues.

For information about contributing a guest column, contact Elizabeth Hardin-Burrola at The Independent: (505) 863-6811 ext. 218 or lizreligion01@yahoo.com.