Right now the south is facing another crisis. The Mississippi River is higher than its been in over 75 years. Today it crested at 47.8 feet, leaving a trail of destruction up and down the border states of Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Louisiana and Mississippi. My heart just aches for them. Many families are faced with the loss of property or worse, life.
The reason I wanted to add this is for another keepsake and part of history taking place on this Earth.
hobbits tale
There and Back Again. A Hobbit's Tale... [4/27/2011]- please take this with a sense of humor and recognize God's influence. by Randy Robbins on Saturday, April 30, 2011 at 1:00pm
This is my experience during the tornado that swept through Alberta and Tuscaloosa in as much detail as I can muster with the medication I am on. I need to put this down for therapeutic reasons and for others to read because I can't keep re-telling this story. If you are to take anything away from this story it is two things: 1)God saved so many people that day including me and 2)disasters bring out the absolute best in some people...and the absolute worst in others. I am going to write down the events exactly as I remember them while I still can. I will add details that I have gathered from accounts by my neighbor and judging from materials stuck inside my body. I would also like to point out that any person I don't reference by name (such as neighbor) I had not really met before. Here goes:
At roughly 4pm on April 27, 2011, I was sitting in FI 414 class listening to presentation on industries and the severe weather alarms went off and the University cancelled classes for the rest of the day. I considered staying on campus, but I saw everyone else leaving and decided I would be fine going to my apartment (face palm). This is probably my biggest regret of my life purely for the fact that I let the actions of others sway my opinion and nearly kill me. I walked to my truck that was parked roughly a mile away near the Coliseum. I knew we were in for a storm when the wind knocked my backpack off my shoulder halfway there. I made it to my truck and drove to my apartment that was located at the intersection of University Blvd. and 25th Avenue East in Alberta City, AL. During my drive, I received several texts from both my older and younger sisters warning me that some severe storms were heading to my area. Naturally, I discounted them as hysteria and paranoia and continued on my merry way. I got to my apartment at roughly 4:30pm and popped a frozen pizza in the oven for dinner. I turned on my computer and pulled up my assignments for the night. As I began working through my homework, I got some more texts from friends warning me of the weather. I assured them all that I would be perfectly safe in my sturdy apartment. The timer for the pizza went off so I got it out of the oven and took two slices to my room. I hadn't eaten much for lunch so I was ravenous. I ate nearly the entire pizza. This small detail probably saved my life. More on that later.
The power in my apartment went out at roughly 5pm and so I opened the shades on my window to read and look outside. I noticed the trees behind my apartment swaying at a steep angle. Then I decided I should probably close all windows and doors. I did so. Just then my buddy Sean Philips texted me that I should find cover. I was coming up with a clever retort about how paranoid he is being when my ears popped really hard and I heard what sounded like a train outside my window. I had watched enough news to know this meant a tornado. I jumped into my closet and slammed the door shut. I felt the whole building shaking so I grabbed the door knob and held it shut with all my strength. Then I heard tearing and ripping noises which had to be my back wall tearing away. At this point, I wanna point out that if any of these events had occurred slightly differently or in a different order, I would have been buried. Anyway, the back wall tore away from the building and the door to my closet began shaking open and I kept pulling it back closed. After a couple seconds of this struggle, the door and I were sucked out of the closet and through the back wall. I never rose more than a couple feet off the ground but, judging from memories of where things were, I flew about 40 feet total. The winds flung me from the back wall into the chain link fence 10-15 feet behind my apartment with enough force to leave bruises of the chain links in my side. It then flung me back into some piles of rubble where I was then rolled around on the ground for about 15 seconds before it subsided slightly. I looked up from my prone position and I was lying on tile floor and I could see my neighbor lying on top of her baby trying to shield her. I also heard myself screaming and realized I had been screaming the entire time but hadn't noticed.
The winds were beginning to pick up again so I ran over to my neighbor and threw myself on top of them to try and shield them. Somewhere along the way I stepped on a piece of wood with enough force to shove a 3-inch piece through the bottom of my foot. Please take note, this was not an act of heroism, but desperation. As far as my concussed mind could think, I truly believed during that split second that we three were the only beings left in a world that had dissolved around us. I acted to try and preserve the only other people left in this Hell so I wouldn't be alone if I survived. I laid on top of her and immediately the winds picked up again. I was bombarded with (judging from wounds and what is still imbedded in my back at the time of this writing) glass, roofing shingles, pieces of wood, and a Bic pen. LOL. I know this for sure because I pulled it out of my side when I stood up. The storm finally dissipated after roughly 10-20 seconds and slowly stood up. Due to adrenaline and shock, I did not notice any of the injuries I suffered. However, I did notice that I could barely hear anything and my ears were bleeding from the pressure of the storm (the earlier popping that alerted me of the tornado). Everyone's ears were. The poor baby's ears were pouring blood. At this point, I surveyed my body. My jeans, watch, glasses, and shirt had been ripped from my body.Somehow, I was still holding my iPhone in my right hand. Just then a call came through. It was my older sister, Christina. I could only stare at it in disbelief before answering. I don't remember our conversation, but she later relayed it to me. Here it is as she remembers it:
Christy: Randy??? Randy???
Me: Kiki! My apartment; it's gone. The baby is bleeding. I lost my glasses. My foot is bleeding bad. There are people stuck. I have to go.
I then hung up the phone because people were screaming from within piles of rubble. I limped over to the nearest pile where one of my neighbor's head was sticking out from beneath a section of roof. I pulled off a couple small pieces of wood before collapsing. I think I blacked out for a couple seconds. Next thing I remember, he is digging himself out. He comes to check on me and almost slips in the puddle of blood and water at my feet. He tears off his shirt and ties it around my foot (I had no shoes or socks on before it hit). He helps me stand and we look around at the damage. I see my childhood friend Austin and his girlfriend Mary and their dog that live six doors down from me. They are standing in their bathroom. I yell to them and then begin trying to crawl out. At some point I believe a neighbor (maybe Mary) throws me a woman's loafer which I put on my left foot to protect it. It was a left shoe that was about 2 sizes too small but I barely noticed. I can't walk because of my foot so i throw some sections of my couch across the short wall of sharp debris between me and what's left of the parking lot and begin crawling on my hands and knees across. Due to the composition and layout of the debris, I am forced to crawl on my belly under my truck to get out (it was then parked in my living room and totaled).
I finally reach the parking lot covered in blood, dirt, oil, and sheetrock dust. I lend a neighbor my phone and then I spot my friend and neighbor, Brandon and hobble to him to check him out. Amazingly, he is unhurt. We both hear someone yelling that another storm is about to touch down in the area so we immediately take off to find shelter. I lose track of everyone else. Austin and Mary help dig out some neighbors. Brandon lends me his shoulder and we begin walking (me hopping) to the Piggly Wiggly down the street. We hear that they are not letting people in so we detour to the local Save-A-Lot and ask the manager if he is letting people in. He lets us in. I sit on the nearest checkout station while Brandon runs to find first aid supplies. He finds peroxide, paper towels, and scotch tape. I use what little Spanish I know to try to cheer up a small hispanic child that was crying near me. I begin to feel very faint from blood loss so I start chugging as much Gatorade as possible to keep blood sugar up so I don't pass out. The pizza I ate earlier also probably kept me awake and alive. Brandon begins cleaning and wrapping my foot. We then see that there is still wood sticking out. We wrap paper towels and tape over it to try to stop the blood loss.
I then begin to feel a slight itchy, burning sensation on my back so I asked him to take a look. He says that I have a few cuts on my back. I'm glad he didn't tell me the extent to which it was messed up. We stay in the store and wait for the next tornado to touch down. I sit on a rolling cart so that Brandon could quickly wheel me to the back if it came. We were all getting ready to run to the back and lock ourselves inside the freezer. I tell Brandon to gather some food and water in case we are trapped inside the store. I feel prepared, so I try to slow breathing and heart rate to slow blood flow. Some time later (I began losing track of time and events) we see people run into the bank to steal money and cops arrest them. This pisses us all off for obvious reasons. Brandon and I walk (and hop) up to the Texaco because we hear they have set up a triage center there. We get there and they turn us away so we go back to the store. I am exhausted from blood loss and hopping everywhere. I should point out that I am hopping down the street wearing only my silver cross necklace and boxers and the homemade bandages on my foot. It's funny now, not so much then.
We stay in the store for a while. A woman who was in the store earlier comes running back and leads a cop to where I'm lying. I owe her and Brandon both my life. I would have bled out within a couple hours if that cop hadn't found me. He calls in a truck and I jump in the back and they drive me to the hospital. I ask for pen in the bed of the truck so I can write my name and medical info and mom's phone number on my body in case I pass out again and can't talk to nurses. We get to the hospital and I am assigned a randomized name for legal reasons (Raja Ed Downtime). I ask over and over again for them to call my mom to check on Jessica because she is home alone in Homewood and I heard a storm passed by there.
I will never forget the nurse who helped me, Nurse Jackie. She checked up on me throughout my X-Rays and CT scans and stitches over the next 6-8 hours. I felt like I was her only patient although she likely had scores of them at this time. I plan on thanking her personally as soon as I can travel.
This is where the story ends. I am just one person among hundreds, possibly thousands of people hurt in a city where neighbors and strangers alike risked their own lives to save each other. I tried to help who I could any way I could and I owe my life to many others. Thank you, Nurse Jackie for consoling me while I was alone for those many hours. Thank you, Brandon for lending me a friendly shoulder and thinking only of others. Thank you, Lady from Save-A-Lot for finding me a ride to the hospital. Thank you, Mom for forcing Delta airlines to let you off of a plane preparing to take off. Thank you, Jimmy and Jessica for looking throughout hospital (and morgue) for me for hours before finding me. Thank you to the men and women of the National Guard, fire departments, and police departments around the state. Many of us wouldn't have made it without y’all. And, of course, thank you, GOD. Even as the clothes and material possessions were ripped from my body, your symbol stayed firmly around my neck and in my heart.It is long, but I can already feel a massive weight lifted from my chest. This note has done its job. If you are reading this, you are my friend and share the honor of calling me "pal". ;)
Act of Random Kindness
Ronn Patterson
Date: September 7, 2016 at 5:53:22 PM CDT
I have been praying about how to use the Acts of Random Kindness dollars Scatter Christ gave the BOD. I had a couple of situations come up and the Lord just did not give me the freedom/opportunity to do something. I had an appointment in one case and later went to try to find the guy. He wanted $ for his daughter - could hardly understand him. He was carrying two stuffed animals with him. I thought that was probably his normal story to try and get money. I could not find him. I wondered what the Lord was teaching me.
Today I learned of a single mom in my community. She has 4 girls by 3 different men. Her name is April. She had a wreck and hurt her back and is out of work. The girls had so many needs with the start of school. I gave the whole $100 to her. I have found out that her girls are coming to some special events at my church but I am pretty certain her greatest need is Jesus. I'm praying that this ministry and other things the Lord will do will open up opportunities to share Christ with her.
DEllis
I met this homeless lady in the green jacket in 2005 during The Church at Brookhills Extreme Graceover. She had been sober and at a shelter 55 days. During this weekend, she ate at Pizza Hut and Fish Market, got new PJs, received a new haircut and new clothes. She was very funny and quick witted. I posted about DEllis.
Tonight as I had dinner with another one of the homeless women almost 10 years later, we discussed DEllis and her whereabouts. WB asked me if I still had the necklace for her. I DO, let's find her. I pulled out my smart phone and googled for a phone number, knowing she left Birmingham for Pensacola, Florida to live with her father. My heart sank when what appeared was her obituary! She passed away several years ago.
The above picture also appeared in an advertisement for Help for the Homeless! Christ, family, church and friends are such a blessing that so many of us take for granted each day!
RTB - great BIG problem
Session Two of Rock the Block in Choctaw County concentrated on " A Great BIG PROBLEM" - S.I.N.
Every one of us has S.I.N.N.E.D and fallen short of the glory of God. This problem began in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve were disobedient to the Lord our God. They were told not to eat from the from "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but the Serpent convinced them otherwise. We now live in a fallen world and this is a great big Problem.
The children loved eating apples for snack and playing with plastic snakes.
drury swimming
Night swimming at the hotel in Meridian, MS. Our team stayed in a hotel in Meridian as we prepared to do Rock the Block in Gilbertown, Alabama at New Life Church. A few of the children who would be attending the vacation Bible school with us came to spend the night with us at the hotel. They all had so much fun swimming and eating pizza before bed.
Fire at auto mall
Investigation continues into fire at Jefferson County auto sales business
My sweet child drove past this fire when flames were just beginning to show. He stopped and went into the building to see if anyone was there. Two workers were working feverishly to get some items out of this building. Thank you Wesley for your compassion and care for others.
sweet hands
more important than furniture
Recently, I read some words (literally, just six words) from Keith Thompson, veteran foster parent, that sounded very familiar. Here's what he said:
"Children are more important than furniture."
I know this is not some huge, earth shattering truth. It's something that should have been pretty obvious to me already. But I'm sinful, and I'm fallen. And I admit it... We worked hard for our stuff and I like to take care of my stuff. And I want my stuff treated with respect and care.
If there is one area where I struggled with my new life as a global houseparent to twentysomethings -- this is it. I try not to care about my stuff -- my furniture, my house, my car, my things ... but my wicked little heart wants to fight for all of it.
Sure, I can lie to myself and slap a pretty Christian title on this love-of-stuff. Sometimes I call it "good stewardship." You know -- we take care of our stuff because God gave us our stuff and He wants us to be good stewards of the things He entrusts to us. And there is some good, biblical truth to this idea of stewardship... but stewardship should never come at all costs. It definitely shouldn't come at the cost of another's heart or spirit. Because children (Birthed, Adopted, Grandchildren, African, African-American, Ethiopian) are more important than things. Period.
I should back up and explain that before we became Houseparents, people told us to beware of all this. They told us to batten down the hatches in our home. To prepare for every thing in our house to be broken, cracked, stolen or destroyed. We have always responded, we understand, IT ALL belongs to our GOD. I do believe this and try each day to walk through showing and sharing everything in our home, but sometimes it gets the best of me.
We know that God has called us to share life daily and build relationships with those who were not raised with the blessings that I was afforded. But I have to say.........They weren't just kidding.
Logically, it makes perfect sense -- I mean why would a child/person who has never purchased or owned any personal possessions know how to care for things? Why would a child/person who is accustomed to living in day-to-day survival mode for food and other necessities suddenly grasp this crazy western concept of stewardship?
Over the last two years---I'll give you a glimpse. Knobs have been literally ripped off the cabinets, A fist has cracked and destroyed the soap pump on the cast iron sink. A whack to the wall has sent a glass gift from Rome sailing into pieces. A daisy yellow -cutesy fabric rocker now adorns black food stained arms. Ants now march through our bedrooms and mice hide under our refrigerator. Our washing machine has not stopped running like the energizer bunny. Four tires have been flat spotted and one car's undercarriage destroyed. Grease circles now reside on my high back chairs where their sweet black heads rested while playing wii. This list could go on and on, but I'll spare you the details. Almost all of this destruction is purely innocent -- it happens out of curiosity and honest ignorance. But it happens. A lot.
Everytime one of my boys displays one of these acts of "sinful and careless stewardship," I am tempted to display one of my own acts of sinful and careless anger. I am often tempted to scream "WHY would you do such a thing? How could you possibly think this was ok??"
And the Lord speaks to my heart and reminds me that I know perfectly well why they would do these things... They are broken and hurt and they've never had stuff before so they don't know how to take care of it. And frankly, it's just stuff.
For so many reasons, I am thankful to live a life that daily lends itself to these struggles. Each day I must intentionally choose... what's really important to me?
"For where your treasure lies, there your heart will be also." -- Matt 6:21, NIV
Homeless James
This man is only known as James. You can drive around a 4 square block area in downtown Birmingham and call his name and usually from between the buildings James will appear. He always says " I am starvin like marvin, do you have any food?"