Better Than Before

Long Beach Boardwalk,

(rebuilt after Superstorm Sandy destruction)


What happens when a home is built on a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the bay? Nothing…until the Day.

 

The Day of the perfect storm

When wind, high tide and full moon collide

The ocean greets the bay

The narrow strip of land                 

Submerged.                                                

The Day divided time,                                      

Naming it-- 

Before the Storm

And After the Storm. 

Before the Storm … 

I had a husband, five healthy kids,    

 a dog who barks too much;

Though we lived in an old house

Burdened with needed repair,

We could relax on the beach,

Watch the sun set from the boardwalk

Ride bikes by the bay.

I was thankful for my few possessions,

But holding them

As if I could

In my own strength.

After the Storm … 

My husband, five healthy kids,

The dog who barks too much          

And I shared one room upstairs,

One bathroom for seven bodies

In our old house,

Gutted to half its skeleton.

The wind howled

Over the ocean,

Chilling our home. 

Clean up involved

Shoveling the beach out

Of the living room,

Sweeping the muddy sand

Out the door,

Tossing a mountain-high pile of ruined belongings

In black trash bags

To the sidewalk.  

Floors piled with blankets for beds;                                              

Our old home became

An indoor campground. 

                                                                          

After the storm… 

We didn’t know what

A blessing it would be

To rid our lives of things

That don’t matter.

We didn’t know

The blessings to come;

God would answer prayer

In His perfect time. 

As our home was stripped

To the beams, so were our lives;

We could see the hidden parts

That held our house together—

The solid beams,

The weak, rotting beams                                             

Where the foundation

Needed repair,

A twisted screw,

Rusty pipes.

Moldy insulation. 

When our structure

Was removed,

What was left?

Our faith,

Our hope,

Our love. 

One year after the storm,

God brought volunteers,

In our eyes,

Angels in orange;

Each said yes to His call

And came willing to serve,                                                       

To bless us, strangers,

To rebuild our home,

Better than before. 

Minor progressions became

Major blessings,

Like watching seeds

Sown in a dessert

Sprout into the most beautiful flower. 

What happened on that Day

When the ocean met the bay?

Something we never expected—

Our lives were changed;

We saw Jesus

In the smiles of His servants

In their lovely, willing hands.                      

We were blessed. 

After the storm…

We are better than before.

*******

This poem won 3rd place Editor's Choice for the Faithwriter's weekly contest for the theme "Count Your Blessings."