Wednesday, August 31, 2005



That's how I felt when my brother, Steve, was about six or seven and got hit by the flu so bad, and dehydrated so quickly, that we ended up in the ER with him. And I was sure he was going to die.


That's how I felt when we were playing touch football (American style) in the front yard and Steve was running full out with his head down, right into the big oak tree, and bounced off, lying dazed on the ground.


That's how I felt a few years ago when I got a call from Steve telling me he was in the hospital with chest pains. He had been attending his denomination's annual meeting in Louisville (about two hours away), when this happened. I drove down to be with him as he went through all sorts of tests and all (ending up with a diagnosis of about 10% blockage, but nothing required to treat it).


And that's how I felt last night, and feel this morning, and will continue to feel until we hear from him. He and his wife live in Jackson, Mississippi, and other than about a 45 second call to my Mom on Monday night, saying they were 'okay' (and then the call abruptly ended), we haven't had a word.

In the age of instant communication, there is no way to reach him, with 80% of the state without power. In the time of cell phones, emails, internet, Mother Nature has taken control of the situation, and we are all helpless. In a day of being able to talk with strangers halfway around the world, I cannot hear the voice of my younger brother, who is so precious to me.


But not hopeless.

For God is there, and it is in God I place my hope and trust. God is with Steve and Denise, and that is where they place their hope and trust. God is speaking, God is comforting, God is helping, God is reassuring me that whatever happens, my brother, like all the children of God hit by the devastating power of Katrina, are in God's care.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.

(c) 2005 Thom M. Shuman

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