My dear reader, my friend, my supporter, my stranger who somehow found this blog,
Grace and peace! May you be blessed with the presence of the Lord!
A few days ago I was struggling to write an update. "What have I been doing??" I thought, racking my brain for words.
Life is extremely different right now. Our local students left for spring break with hardly more than a "bah, y'awl," fully expecting to come back to finish up the year at Mississippi State University. Little did we know, as we put our normal ministry on hold, normal would be put on hold indefinitely. The American in me misses the bustle, and the Hoosier in me misses the hard work. The human in me is enjoying the rest.
As far as ministry, God's been drawing me toward the quiet place, the place of prayer, for months. It's hard for me to look forward to sometimes, and goodness knows I'm not faithful about it, but at least I know what I'm being called to. That's an object of my desire, though! I want to want prayer more than any other thing! I've been reading Practicing His Presence, which is such a good book. (Reader, have you been drawn to anything particular in the last few weeks? I'd very much like to know, if you're willing to oblige.)
This pandemic, or "pestilence," as my dad calls it, has been giving me more time to write, as well. I enjoy writing in any form, although novels and good poetry evade my expertise so far. I've taken much pleasure in sending postcards and letters lately.
We were also called upon to help write a call script for the new Starkville hotline. The three of us and one other friend delivered food to several households in dire need that same first day.
Since the failed update brainstorm a week or so ago, a tornado swept through Mississippi on Resurrection Sunday. Why do people say that? "Swept." Tornados don't leave their path clean, like a broom. They leave debris and rugged houses, their jagged bricks in a silhouette of hopes, "struck down but not destroyed." This particular tornado was the widest in Mississippi history, and third widest in U.S. history. Believe me, it looks like it.
In Jones County, Samaritan's Purse is convenient for outsiders to be mobilized. Members of the community are already plugged into various groups and churches. Small teams of orange shirts drag branches and roofs, one squadron in a wing of workers. Chelsea, Kelly, and I got to work with them these past two days. It feels so good to be tired after a solid day's manual labor.
So who knows what the next few weeks will bring? Day by day, ministry looks different. Let me know what your prayers have been, what God has inspired you to hope for.
Warmly,
Ruthie Jo