Playing the Cards

I like to think I have control of my life.  Deciding where I work, where I live, what I eat, what I drink, what I wear, who I love, who I like...yes, I think I have control of my life.  Which is what I crave being the order and planned person I am.  But then, just when I naively really believe that I can control all aspects of my existence, a big ol' wake up call comes flying in.  

A wake up call of no matter how much I think or believe or feel like I'm in control of my own life, I am not.  A wake up call of remembering that I am just a tiny player in this card game.  A game which I definitely do not control.  

Because no matter what you feel about God, I do believe there is a higher power in this world.  And in the middle of all of our man-made this and humanized that, is a sometimes gentle reminder of His power, like seeing my sister riding down a dirt road with the sun starting to set. 

Then other times, it is not so much of a gentle reminder but rather a wild and ferocious event, like seeing water spread across a whole valley taking over the land when usually it is just a meandering calm river carving a narrow path.  

I know that my wondering of how and why such a thing can happen as this massive amount of water taking hold of all of our lives is not a new wondering.  For hundreds and even thousands of years, people have been playing a constant volleying between what we think we can develop, make, and control versus nature and what we know we can never control.  

Then I suppose it boils down to that whole question of "How do I handle this when I know I can't change it?"  I feel very fortunate that my house and my job and my own little circle of self is not directly affected by all of that water coming rushing down the valley.  But I know that my big circle which includes my family members, who are constant stewards of the land being farmers and ranchers, are hugely affected as every detail of their whole livelihood hangs on that land.  

The land that is covered in water and mud and is trenched with deep gullies.  Seeing them just keep on keeping on trying to do whatever they can and constantly making new game plans to try and salvage whatever possible, reminds me that life is really all in how we handle what is thrown at us.     

And the instant I heard the phrase "mandatory evacuation" a few mornings ago from our mayor's mouth, immediately I thought of my family and friends who live down in the bottom of the valley of our town where all of that water that is ravaging the land in the country had to push through.  

So I went.  Jumped in my car and drove to Chris and Karen's house where a semi was backing up to their garage so the contents of their entire house could be loaded in a single afternoon.  I wasn't the only one that went, there was a whole crew of people all grabbing whatever they could.  

It was not my stuff and not my house and not my yard, and I can not imagine what Chris and Karen were feeling during those hours when we were all condensing their lives into one semi trailer, but I know that how they handled it was nothing short of amazing.  While I would probably have broke down into a puddle of hating losing control and order, they both were extremely positive and kept doing what needed to be done.  And there was even some joking and laughing along the way, which is really no surprise when Karen is involved.  We both laughed that our next goal after the half marathon was just chosen for us...putting their entire house back together.  And at one point, she said, "At least Sundie is wearing her evacuation dress and Emma has her sparkly shoes on."  We all couldn't help but chuckle at the irony.  Kids have a way of keeping things light even in a seriously crummy situation. 

After we finished, I moved on to Steve and Brittany's house where one short week ago, we were all sitting in the living room celebrating Stella's third birthday.  This time, we packed up the contents of that whole living room and the rest of the house until the late hours of the night.  A large portion of which is now stacked and piled in my garage.  Every time I open my door and see all of their belongings, I feel a pang of guilt as my house is still intact and my life is not thrown in the air.  

When I was putting Stella's belongings from her newly painted and decorated "big girl" room into plastic totes that night, I saw the look in her eyes.  The look of panic, wondering why I was touching and moving all of her stuff including taking the sheets off her bed.  So I said to her as I leaned the mattress against the box spring, "Hey Stella, guess what?  You can slide down your bed now.  It'll be fun!  And your mommy and daddy and all of us will put your room back together again.  I promise."  Seeing her throw her arms in the air and slide down her bare mattress in her becoming very bare room with a smile on her face quickly grounded me again and reminded me that it is not stuff that is important, it is the souls of the people around that matter most. 

Yesterday morning, after knowing that my friends were all safe and their belongings were all on higher ground, I couldn't sit at my house while our town was still fighting to keep all of that water at bay.  I grabbed my leather gloves and went to help fill and stack sand bags at the city department.  It was a humbling experience.  An entire group of strangers all pulling and working together for a common cause is nothing short of a breath catching moment.   

My friends are up-rooted and the land my family depends on is a mess like no other and our town is looking like a disaster zone.  So my thoughts about having control of my whole life are shifted towards knowing I indeed don't.  My spirituality tells me that God has the cards and it's all in not how I try to control those cards, but rather how I handle the cards being thrown at me.  

I like to think that my helping where ever I can, whether that's throwing sand bags for hours or packing my friends' belongings or having my garage filled to the brim or simply visiting at the farm, takes away some of the guilt I feel for knowing my house is going to remain the same and my livelihood will stay consistent as it does not depend on the land.  Can we fix guilt by helping?  I like to think so.  As I write this, I am looking down at my sand bag scraped forearms and feeling the heat of my sunburned face.  And I'm grateful.  Grateful that I was able to help.  But being all too aware it was just a minuscule bit of help and believing I could have done more.  Because there's always more we can do.
  
Since the river crested here in town in the early morning hours without leaving its banks and most of the houses and businesses remain dry, which is nothing short of a miracle, now comes putting all of those belongings back in houses and cleaning up the town.  Both tasks that won't be easy or fun or unemotional or without cost, but both are doable with some more pulling together.  And some houses will not easily be put back together as they did become filled with water and those people have a long road ahead of them and will need lots of thoughts and prayers and helping hands.        

The land in the country.  Oh, the land.  This growing season has gone down...leaving the likelihood of a successful harvest in the mud.  Gone are the chances of seeing fields filled with grain this whole summer and fall.  The effects of that long lasting and extremely devastating.  This area of North Dakota produces a massive amount of food for all of us every year and that is simply not going to happen.  And replacing and mending the miles and miles of fence that were ravaged by the rushing currents will be a daunting task once the water recedes.  Plus, the hay land that creates food for the animals all winter long is under water and will remain that way for a very long time which creates a huge problem as well.  What are all of those cows going to eat this coming winter?  Overwhelming issues for sure.        

And I can't help but wonder, will our tiny spec of Earth heal itself?  Will this land that has been farmed and grazed for longer than we have all been alive, somehow find a way to become productive again? 

I believe it will.  Maybe it will be different, but it will be healed.  Some how and some way we will continue the dance between human and nature.