Four Ways to Help in Crisis

Autumn blew into Cook County on Monday with an unprecedented fury. Winds from the north, virtually unheard of in our little chunk of earth, gusted from land out over Lake Superior at upwards of sixty miles per hour. Trees uprooted or broken off by the wind took out power lines and transformers. Others toppled on buildings and cars. It's a big mess, and three days later many are without power and water.

Unexpected events like this, though not as severe as a hurricane or other natural disaster, still effect people's sense of normalcy and security and create a level of stress and trauma that can have the same debilitating effect as a low grade temperature does on a body after several days. Energy, enthusiasm, and endurance can all suffer.

Here are a few ways you can help your friends, family, and neighbors cope with the inconvenience and stress of unexpected traumatic events.

First, take a minute and gain some perspective for yourself. We often point out the needs of others as being more intense or acute than our own (or someone else's) need. Please. Don't do this. Not yet. I realize that there are people in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama who are still trying to recover from Hurricane Katrina. I realize that their difficulty is very likely greater than mine, their inconvenience more severe than mine, but that does not diminish the emotional effect of my crisis on me. So, helper, take a moment and prepare yourself to understand my crisis in my context. Don't attempt to dismiss my sense of need because you think someone else has a greater need than I. Get some perspective. If you're going to help me, help me.

Second, let's talk about what happened. Let me tell you my story. Tell me your story. Let me tell you how it feel to be a new homeowner and suddenly lose nine trees, three of which were important in screening my house from highway noise. Let me tell you how it feels to have someone else come and cut up my trees with their chainsaw because they didn't think I was competent enough to use it without hurting myself. Let me tell you about not having the ability to shower or even use the bathroom in my own home while I wait for someone who gets to go home to a hot meal and hot shower every night to come and fix my lines. tell me about your trees, your experience, your outlook, and in the telling of these shared stories we'll identify together the things that are important, the things that are silly, and the things that will help us get both the land and the spirit back to normal.

Third, help as you can, but don't make offers or promises you can't keep. If you'd like to help but can't, say so. If you offer to help but are not able to assist me when I tell you what I need, just say so. Please don't tell me you'll see what you can do, and then do nothing. That simply adds disillusionment to my frustration. You might also want to consider offering what you actually can do. If you're allergic to pine sap and can't help me clean up broken branches, but you can bring me a drink of cold water from the store three miles away (since I'm still without power) then by all means, offer what you can, what you will. I'll understand the heart behind the offer and will be encouraged by your thoughtfulness!

Finally, be patient, especially if I lose mine. We all know the proverb, "This too shall pass." We just forget sometimes, in our instant soup world, how slowly some things pass. If I tell the same story again, be patient. Eventually the event will find its rightful place in my life and I'll move on to other stories. If I cuss the same broken tree over and over, be patient. Soon enough new sprouts will grow from the stump and I'll be complaining about more leaves to rake than ever before. If I stand for a moment, overwhelmed at the result of power beyond my control, be patient. Shortly I will realize the normalcy of that position and find my contentment again. So just be patient. It could be the biggest help of all.