Right around Livia’s bedtime last night, I saw John Russnogle (fellow Zion member) rounding the corner into our yard with a large ladder. Later when I asked Jeremy about his interaction with John, he told me that we’re storing the church ladder indefinitely.
And then it hit me. Our church building is really gone.
I fell asleep and woke up again to a slideshow of sorts in my brain. Images of the church building click on and off and I try to recall all the details I can. The slideshow didn’t let me fall back asleep after 5:30am, so I threw on some shoes and clothes and rounded the city block for what seems like the millionth time in the last few days.
The east wall gapes open, the shattered innards of the church exposed. A bright red Coleman cooler, part of it at least, is easily visible on the lawn. After a few minutes of peering intently, I realized I could see the bent frame of one of the refrigerators on the west side of the kitchen. Also easily visible from that perspective are the doors leading into the coffeehouse, so carefully and thoughtfully constructed a few years ago, and the door that led from the choir room to the worship hall.
With all three lanes of 9th Street open, for a time at least, I felt an incongruity between the devastation of the church and traffic on the street. For all of us, even those of us who are grieving, it’s Monday, the beginning of a new week. Still, I wonder how many folks can get back to life as usual while I can’t tear my eyes away from my much beloved, now burned church.
I am not without hope, but my heart is greatly grieved. There’s no way to bypass the grief part… so for now my tears will flow.
5 Comments
Janna Mawhinney Jun 11, 2007 9:34 AM
Rebecca,
I was able to view your blog from one of Charity’s recent e-mails that had a link. I hardly know how to communicate comfort to you and your church family during this time. You must still be in shock. And sleep deprivation on top of all that! – I would be more than happy to be a listening ear if you ever need someone who knows about sleepless nights. Since Levi was born last October we have spent way too many nights in the hospital, which led to a crazy sleep “schedule.” Sleep deprivation makes me irrational, super-emotional, and left feeling like I have no personality (at least not one that is enjoyable to anyone :).
Anyway, just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone. We trust that God will bring great triumph out of this devastation.
With a heavy heart,
Janna Mawhinney
Rebecca A. Jun 11, 2007 9:50 AM
Rebecca – It is weird to wonder how a situation like this can make some drop to their knees and others not be effected much at all. I have personally had several people come to me who did not attend Zion and try to offer comfort. My neighbors, many who do not know Christ have wondered at such devastation and I see the situation opening doors that were never there before. I have been asked the question, “What will happen to the congregation?” All I know to say is we will greive, pray, hold each other and move on but we will do this with our eyes firmly planted on Christ.
Andy and I went Saturday to see what was left and it was hard to make my mind believe what my eyes saw. I know I can still see my kids running around inside the church and out. I can see my husband in the sanctuary looking at me through tears on our wedding day. I can see myself looking out at the congregation when we had our last child baptised. I can still see Stu pouring his heart out to a congregation that he loves dearly during his sermons. There are so many memories.
My eight year old son was watching them begin to tear down that wall yesterday. He looked at me through tears and said, ” Mom, remember all those times I would complain about having to come with you and dad to clean…..well I wish I had never done that.” It broke my heart. I really didn’t know what to say other than, “I know, me too.”
Rebecca A.
karen Jun 11, 2007 6:06 PM
These past two mornings when I woke up I wondered if it had been a dream. I went back to the church again today to see what had changed since Saturday. It is still hard to see and still brings tears to my eyes.
I looked and looked for something I recognized. I think it brings comfort to see form and familiarity in the midst of piles of debris. I saw the flood lights hanging from the balcony still in tact and where they have always been, but quite scorched. They didn’t look good but they looked familiar and that was good.
Mike Jun 12, 2007 10:23 AM
It’s little things like the ladder and the flood lights that keep reminding me that it’s just, well, gone. I was down there yesterday afternoon with Michael Petermann (former Zion member, now lives in CO Springs). Through the space they have torn down, we could see the back wall where pictures of missionaries we pray for are still hanging, untouched. We looked in through the hole at where the stairway had been, along with the supply closet next to it. Our AWANA stuff was all in there, and I would presume it is all completely burned and melted. All of those little stickers and badges that kids earned by memorizing God’s word… not part of a wedding day or a baptism or anything special. But, I’ll bet I went to that cabinet three times a night every Wednesday last year. That was *normal*. However you would describe where we are now, “normal” would not be on the list. I guess that’s why we latch onto flood lights and missionary posters that stand amid the charred remains of the church building.
RT Jun 14, 2007 4:03 PM
I need to say a big thank you to all of you who left sweet comments on the Prairie Box over the last few days. Your encouragement and prayers have meant a lot to me. It’s been fun to hear from quiet readers, as well as folks I haven’t seen in two years (Janna!). Thanks, friends. The entire body of Zion Church continues to need prayers as we make plans for the future.