As I contemplated on what I wanted to share for this writing, I looked at Psalm 79, the lectionary reading for this weekend. Then my mind traveled back twenty years. I had joined some 50,000 Guard members deploying in the response to Hurricane Katrina. The catastrophic storm had winds topping 175 mph. I remember seeing satellite images of the storm’s circulation covering virtually the entire Gulf as it made its way toward the coast. Remembered as one the most powerful Atlantic storms on record, it slammed on shore southeast of New Orleans.

The devastation it left behind is beyond description. I was in awe, disbelief really, as I viewed the destruction. The shredded homes, the walls of debris probably 50 feet high, and the structural damage, were vivid reminders of the power of that storm. Then, while in the New Orleans area, we were brushed by Hurricane Rita, its low pressure making it the strongest hurricane ever recorded in the Gulf. The storm made landfall farther west, and very quickly we were reassigned to bring support to its victims.

As we made our way through a small town impacted by Rita, a lasting image was created for me. I saw a lone woman sitting on the back of a truck. What caught my eye as we drove by her was the look on her face. Her face reminded me of the many pictures that captured the faces of those who weathered the Dust Bowl days. To me, her face appeared empty, vacant, void of emotion, hopeless, lifeless. In other words, it was “the thousand yard stare.” A Corporal Joe Houle upon arriving in Vietnam described that stare this way, “The look in their eyes was like the life was sucked out of them.”

She looked as if her life had been sucked out of her. She was certainly not alone with that look as the residents stared at the devastation in the wake of Rita. I suspect the Psalmist may have had that same look. As you read Psalm 79, you can feel the painful anguish of the Psalmist lamenting the vivid devastation. The Psalm begins, “O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple, they have reduced Jerusalem to rubble” (v. 1 NIV). The Psalmist reflects upon the trauma of the Israelite nation following Jerusalem’s destruction.

Our nation is impacted with traumatic events as well. Sometimes it seems that it is all too often as we watch or read the news. Our recent commemoration of 9/11 reminds us of those moments in our history. As individuals, we are forced to face life-shattering events as well. At a moment’s notice, we can experience devastation that shatters us emotionally or physically.

When this happens, sometimes all we are able to do is look at the damage. We find ourselves simply staring at the wreckage as the feeling of being overwhelmed consumes us. We then lose our focus. I confess at times, as I look at problems, I may be tempted to ask, “Where is God in all of this?” Our lives can be torn asunder, torn apart, or broken at any moment. We do not need to be reminded that there are many things that can rip our lives apart. What we may need to be reminded of is where our strength ultimately lies.

The Psalmist reminds us of our path to recovery as we stare at the devastation, whatever it is. The Psalmist knew who we need to go to, not just in devastating moments, but always. If forgiveness is needed, if strength is needed, if support is needed, we make the words our prayer. “Help us, God our Savior, for the glory of your name; deliver us and forgive our sins for your name’s sake” (v. 9).

Max Furman, pastor of Antes Fort-Oriole Global Methodist Churches, 1409 Gap Road, Allenwood