"Trip" Doesn't Necessarily Mean "to Fall"

A Memoir of our Mission Trip to Houma, Louisiana October 13 – 17, 2007

Dayton Memorial’s team at Good Earth Village. Photo: Kay Dexter

A few folks from our church, Dayton Memorial Presbyterian, undertook a mission trip to Houma, Louisiana.  It was our hope that in some small way, we could reach out and help those who were still struggling with putting their lives back together.   Although two years had passed since Hurricane Katrina had hit the Gulf Coast, we knew that there was still much to do.  The Presbyterian Disaster Assistance Program had created a five-year plan to be in the area to aid those who would continue to need and want the help.

We had a small group of people who went on the trip.  There were six of us.  None of us were in our twenties or even thirties anymore.  Only two had experience in the construction industry.  One member of the group was a small woman.  What a paltry group.  Yet, in His amazing way, God used us and we were blessed.

We drove to Houma in a van belonging to one of our team members.  The camaraderie that we shared is beyond words.  We discussed meaningless trivia and topics of great importance.

One person in our group is a "snowbird."  Each fall, he and his wife join the flocks of Northerners who migrate south for the winter.  However, he was so committed to making this mission trip that he flew to Louisiana to work with us.  He and his wife had only been in Florida for two days!

When we arrived at the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance Village of Terrebonne Parrish, we were greeted by our two village leaders.  Our leaders were a part of the Young Adult Volunteers of the Presbyterian Church.  (How great it was to meet in the flesh some of the very volunteers that I have mentioned during "Minute for Mission" for the Pentecost Offering when I have explained where our mission dollars go in the Presbyterian Church!)  The leaders were Jessie Jennette and Cassie Powell.  These two young ladies had given up a year of their lives to work with people like us and those in the Terrebonne Parrish in Louisiana.

Jessie and Cassie gave us our orientation, a tour of the grounds and facilities, and helped us settle in.  The next morning, we met Michelle Liner of T.R.A.C. (Terrebonne Recovery Action Coalition).  She is the person who connected us with the family with whom we would be working.

Michelle explained to us that the family that we would be working with had been trying very hard to build their own home.  They were living in the elevated single wide mobile home next door.  It had been flooded and had had the back addition ripped off of it during Hurricanes Katrina and Rita.   They recently had an inspector visit the home they were building and there were things that needed to be changed to pass inspection.  We were in an awkward position because we had to go in and undo some things that these people had so proudly done.  We also met with Gordon Case who oversees all of the worksites there.  He gave us a "punch list" and led us to the site.

When we arrived, we realized what Michele had meant about the family working hard.  They had built this "home-to-be" from the ground up to the enclosed shell that was now standing.  And I do mean "up." The plan was a 1200 square foot house raised on 12ft. pillars to hopefully avoid future floods.  Here we were, this paltry pack of Yankees.  As the lone woman in the group, with extremely limited experience in construction, I felt overwhelmed and humbled to be going to someone's home, to undo work that they had already done.  (Side note: "extremely limited experience in construction" is the politically correct way of saying none.  Zip.  Zero.  Nada!)

One of the first things that we were supposed to do was to tear out all of the windows that had been installed.  They were installed on top of the siding.  Caulk had been added around each window. The siding was made of T-111 (unfinished wood siding).  It was tricky to do this task without ripping up all of the siding.

To try to summarize this process, the windows had to be removed.  The old caulk and glue had to be carefully removed from around each window.  Next the siding had to be pried away, and it was nailed in.  The windows had to be wrestled back into the opening and fit between the siding and the wall studs.  Then the siding had to be reattached and the holes in the siding had to be filled in and sanded around the outside of the house.  The windows had to be recaulked.  Finally, trim had to be cut and placed around the windows.

While there that week, we also moved electrical boxes and adjusted the wiring so it met code specifications.  We installed new fascia and a metal drip edge.  Hurricane straps were fastened underneath the home and gas lines were secured.

At one point during our trip, I thought about writing something like this piece that you are now reading.  I was picturing the way travel agencies write headlines that say, "Make Cancun Your Next Vacation Destination."  I thought my writing should be called, "Make Village Good Earth Your Next Mission Destination."  This is because I felt that for a mission trip, we were treated so well.  I thought a mission trip would mean making a lot of sacrifices—physically and emotionally.  Yes, we worked hard and hearing of  the tragedies so many people down there had faced was draining.  Still, there were the positives.  At Good Earth, they had just completed the fellowship hall where we had indoor restrooms and a wonderful, air conditioned area for gathering and eating.  The leaders of the village were personable and helpful.  Kevin Henri, our Cajun-cook-extraordinaire, not only added flavor to our palates and food to our stomachs, but he also added another level of depth to our trip as he shared his own stories of living and surviving in the Gulf Coast.

Everywhere we went, we were enriched and blessed.  We didn't want to intrude on the homeowners' lives any more than we already were, so when we needed a "biobreak" we used the facilities at a nearby library.  The women who worked at the library also shared their stories of storms and hurricanes.  One woman even brought in pictures of her house for us to be able to share with the people back home.  We were so touched by the way people treated us.  When we went into stores or businesses, and the people saw our Presbyterian Disaster Assistance T-shirts they would say, "Thank you for remembering us."

To say that our time was well spent is an understatement.  For you see, we weren't truly on our time, but on God's time.  And in His time we grew closer to one another.  We grew closer to understanding the culture of the bayou.  We grew closer to understanding the family whose home on which we were working.   And of course, we grew closer to God.  Besides the silly banter that inevitably went on between us, we also had time for reflection and discussion.  Each morning and each evening we prayed for help in doing the job we were called to do.  We prayed that we would demonstrate the love and grace of Jesus Christ to those we were called to serve.  God gave us what we needed and more.  Having the opportunity to share in the personal struggles of other people is a humbling gift of grace.

As I sit and ponder all that I personally gained from this trip, there is something else beyond what I can describe  — something beyond the items of growth that I listed above.  In my meager attempt to put it into words I turned to my NRSV Bible, and I think the best way to summarize all of my feelings is found in 2 Corinthians 9:15.  "Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"

Related links

Houma Presbyterian Volunteer Village