Neighborly Love

Last week it rained off and on from Monday to this past Sunday.  This is not common for a state that is at altitude and extremely dry.  As a result, our beautiful Colorado suffered loss of life, loss of property, loss of drinking water, food, wildlife, pets, electricity, and personal belongings.  It was devastating to watch.  Often times I couldn’t watch.  It was just too much for mind to comprehend.

On Saturday afternoon we sat in our basement, holding each other close, listening to large hail ping against every window in our house.  The lightening and thunder was continuous, loud and unpredictable.  I wondered about roof damage and a leaky basement.  I heard my phone sound warning alarms throughout the afternoon.  “Life threatening weather in your area,” said one warning.

Life threatening? 

By evening the clouds became less ominous.  The rain became light.  We walked through our neighborhood to survey the damage.  There wasn’t much, except for a dry creek bed that was now a raging river—complete with two young inner tubers.  I’m not kidding.  Clearly, they didn’t know what was in that water.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

Up the highway about 45 minutes people’s homes were floating away.  Not just a few inches of water flooded basements, but a few feet.  I heard one woman report that one minute she was watching TV, drinking water from her tap, and texting on her cell phone; and the next there was no power, no cell service and the water was declared contaminated.  Can you imagine?  She then had to wait countless hours to be rescued from her home.

It’s interesting to me how some people respond in situations like this.  The stories of heroism are beautiful—strangers reaching out to help other strangers.  Families grateful for life, in the midst of losing every tangible thing they own.  Teams of volunteers showing up at a moments notice to help.  It’s truly amazing to watch.

And then there are some who look out the window at their dry streets and intact neighborhoods and turn off the television coverage—as if to block it out and move on with their lives.  As if to say, if it’s not happening to me, it must not be happening.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.” Matthew 22:39

It’s not a statement.  It’s a command—an important command. And it’s said many times over in scripture.  I have chewed on this scripture for several months now, but it became real to me when parts of this state experienced tragic loss, and many people needed the help, strength and mostly love from their neighbors.

I’m awe struck of how the people of this great state have come together in the name of love to help their neighbors.  I’ve not witnessed a tragedy like this so close to home.  I’ve only heard about this kind of love, but I’ve not seen it played out before me.  It’s beautiful.  It brings hope, to what a few days ago, seemed hopeless.

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.  If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. 1 Corinthians 13:1-3

I am so grateful to the friends and family who reached out to us over the weekend—who checked in to see how we were doing.  I’m thankful to the out-of-state friends who followed the news closely, and prayed us through the storm.  I urge you to continue your prayers.  Just because I’m fine, and my family is fine, my neighbors up north are not.  They need our prayers.

Really, when it comes down to it, aren’t we all neighbors?  We may not live in the same part of town, or state, or even country, but we are all neighbors.  Neighbors in need of love from one another.

Let’s love people well.  Let’s love like Jesus loved.