Bad Moons

I hear hurricanes a-blowin’ / I know the end is comin’ soon / I fear rivers overflowin’ / I hear the voice of rage and ruin / Don’t go around tonight / Well it’s bound to take your life / There’s a bad moon on the rise.

– John C. Fogerty

It’s guilt, I think. I get this odd feeling watching television coverage of hurricanes, you see, like the terrible destruction wrought by Helene yesterday. I’m guessing it’s guilt with maybe some weariness and empathy sprinkled in.

Empathy because although I dodged tornadoes in Arkansas, earthquakes and wildfires in California, a pandemic in Tennessee, and frigid winter temperatures in Illinois, a hurricane in Mississippi holds special status in the disaster-littered timeline of my life. I have absolutely been there.

And weary because thirty-four hurricanes made landfall in these United States since Katrina changed my life in 2005, including four just this year, and if climate change has shown its hand there are many more to come that will be more intense than ever. I feel weary when I see yet another video montage of roaring water, relentless wind, and devastated humans left behind. I know the exhaustion, and there will just be more and more.

But it must be mostly guilt because of the extraordinary response to Katrina. I don’t think there’s been anything like it before or since, and I had a front-row ticket to such incredible love and generosity. That is surely not everyone’s experience, including today. That Katrina turned out to be a highlight of my life is proof that my experience was abnormal.

But this reflection on my emotional salad is all for my personal therapy. I wonder what you think. How should you respond to these perennial tragedies on the evening news?

For starters, I’d say, give when you are so moved. Help the victims of Helene. I know exactly how they will feel when you do. Their hearts are broken. But I can also picture you giving away your piggy bank after one tragedy, then turn on the news the next day only to discover a new tragedy and one less piggy bank. I get not knowing how to respond to the never-ending trail of bad moons that we encounter through various media day after day after day.

I have a general thought.

I recall one of the amazing Katrina volunteers from somewhere in the world coming to tell me goodbye after his group spent several days working their tails off out of pure love. It was killing him to leave with so much undone, and it was my turn to play comforter to another’s tears. I fumbled for something helpful to say to someone so kind, and I mentioned that I suspected he could scratch that itch for helping others in great need back in his hometown, too. Sure, Katrina captured the attention and heart of the entire world, but there are people in great need all around us if we have the courage to look in the dark corners of our own communities. I truly believed that then, and I still do.

So I guess I don’t know how to cure all the problems in the world, including how one person can respond to all the problems in the world. I wish that I did. All I can offer is the idea of adopting a daily posture of keeping our eyes and hearts open to those all around us facing bad moons in their evening sky. Someone close by is in for nasty weather, and if we could imagine a world where we consistently love our neighbors, then maybe we can start to make a dent in the evening news, too.