Last Thursday morning on my walk, approximately fourteen hours before Hurricane Helene made land fall in the US, I saw something unusual in the road. I didn't yet fully grasp
what it was showing me, but I knew it would be a blog topic for a future week. In light of the unprecedented, multi-state devastation that soon followed, the lesson became clear and couldn't be more perfect for right now.
We live in the back of a unique wooded development, situated on 42 acres. We’re in the country, for those of you who are new to the Tuesday emails, and our roads are made of chip and tar, topped with a thin layer of loose gravel, as opposed to traditionally paved roads.
Toward the end of my walk, I noticed an etched groove in the top layer of gravel that went from one side of the road to the other. It was mysterious, but intent on keeping my quick pace, I promptly passed over it and kept going. Suddenly, I felt that strong internal nudge to stop and take notice, so I turned around to investigate.
My curiosity was up and I thought to myself, Why would someone make this line? If not a human, what creature could've done this? And why?
Upon closer examination, I saw that it was a trail filled with busy ants. They were moving dirt, tunneling through gravel, back and forth about fifteen feet each way, to make a huge ant hill. An ant moving gravel is equivalent to a human moving a mountain. Impossible, right?
Why is this important today?
In the face of
unimaginable reconstruction that lies ahead for many individuals, businesses and towns, we must take encouragement from the ants. By themselves, they can do nothing, but in community, they can do everything necessary to survive and thrive.
The ant community is doing something we would consider impossible, but no one told them that. Their “road” was also wiped out later that night, but they will rebuild it. Why? One, because they’re not surprised when their work is derailed. It’s common and an accepted part of life. And two, (I'm guessing here) ants are not capable of letting discouragement set in.
It's a hard fact, but destruction is common to all. Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier, but if we see tragedy as “normal” across the centuries, which it is, we can more easily recover from the shock and overwhelm of this natural disaster, and move toward restoration.
Easy for me to say from my safe place, right? But I have been through my share of natural and personal tragedies, as we all have. The sooner we can accept that our misfortune is common (whatever it is), and realize that we're not alone in this particular suffering,
the sooner we can find the willingness to allow the start of restoration and the return of hope.
Of course there is a time for grief and that’s always appropriate. But then we must put one foot in front of the other
to begin to inch forward, no matter how impossible it seems.
Small movements and consistent efforts over time can lead to the miraculous. And that’s what the ants do, miraculous work, day after day.
If we are unharmed, watching the devastation online and hearing about it from our friends and loved ones, we must remind them to not give up hope—that miracles still happen and recovery is possible, no matter how bad things
look right now.
A friend in Asheville told me he’s hearing there won’t be water for a few weeks. I will keep reminding him that miracles are always possible, and that when a community comes together, new solutions can
appear. Time and group efforts are multiplied exponentially, so that what we thought might take weeks, could resolve quicker than we think.
Maybe water isn't expected to be available through normal channels for a
few weeks, but a breakthrough may come in another way. Hope and imagination are unlimited resources. If you have some, give it away. Someone will be there for you one day, too.
If this is reaching you in the midst of
personal devastation, cling to your faith that all will be well again. If you are depleted, let someone believe for you until you can hope again. What looks impossible today will be restored in one some way or another. There will be gifts along the way, guaranteed.
For those who have suffered grave loss in this catastrophe, I am so sorry. Nothing can prepare us for the losses that come unexpectedly. There may never be an answer for why this had to happen. There may never be a “gift” evident enough in this lifetime to ease the pain of your loss. But every day, there will be tiny miracles. There will be reprieves of hope. We have to be willing to let the light in, especially in the darkest of days.
For those of us not personally threatened by the loss of basic living necessities, and all the other ways people are hurting right now, may we be the pillars of hope and the army on the ground, paving the way for rebuilding.
Let’s be representatives of the power in community to move even the biggest mountains—bit by bit—until we’re all whole again. United we stand.
Want to watch these ants working so diligently? I've shared a video
in our FTG Readers Group on Facebook.
