It seems, at least to me, that there is no one in our group more glad to make it home than me. I have a 5 year old that needs me more when I go away than she ever does when I’m home with her – and so being home is such a nice place of comfort for me this evening.
But this week, in retrospect, has not been about comfort – and that is SO the point. It is clear as we get more and more involved in the life of the Gulfcoast that many, MANY are STILL without common comforts. It has also become apparent to me as I complete this 5th trip there after Katrina/ Rita that I leave a piece of me there each year. We might be infrequent in our visits but I believe that we have become more than visitors. We love this place – and for a Kentuckian who loves her home, that’s not an easy thing to come by. We have in many ways become adopted sons and daughters of people like Velma and Willie who love us genuinely while we are there and we can’t help but love them enough to not only leave a bit of us there, but also to leave that space in our hearts for them open to change in their names. We are one together in their practical struggle of rebuilding with limited resources and worn out spirits for a few moments in time, but more than that, in our common focus and passion for their continued struggle to make their homes and lives whole again. Four and a half years is simply too long — too long to bring peace to a person’s life — and the relationships we have built in the Gulfcoast won’t allow us to forget that.
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