I am in New Orleans, tonight. Well, just outside of it. This has been a whirlwind weekend and I pack up and leave in the morning, having come here to do the work I need to do. This is my first trip to Louisiana, my first trip to anything like this.
I cannot begin to speak of this, as it would be like sticking your pinky-toe in the ocean and declaring “It’s blue.” My experience is so shallow. Still, I feel called to raise it up, and as I sit here, in a hotel room, all alone, struggling with whether I should even try, I found this blog entry from NOLA Rev, called “What It’s Like Here, pt. 2.” Here’s some of what she has to say:
Then, there’s the relationships crashing. In a congregation officially less than 90 adults, I know of 3 divorces/split ups; there may even be more than I’m not yet aware of. One couple in my church, long-time members, are planning to live at least 6 months away from the city, having purchased a house out of state. The wife is traumatized and can’t take it here any more; she doesn’t feel safe. A New Orleans attorney, friend of mine for close to 30 years, says that right after Katrina it was the men who went crazy while the women held things together; 2 years later, the men are doing OK and the women are dropping like flies. My friend says that periodically his wife brings up leaving the city — and they go round and round for a while, talking about where they might live, and in the end, they come to the conclusion, Where would we go? How could we live anywhere else?
There will be more, but for now, I go to sleep in my hotel bed, looking forward to “going home” assured that it–and everything I own–waits there for me. Ah, that I could wish the same for those who lost so much more than possessions.