I’ve written before about our return to Joplin one month after an F5 tornado devastated our Missouri community, and it’s been on my mind again lately. It’s not because of the approaching fourteenth anniversary of the event on May 22. Nor is it because of the recent release of the Netflix documentary focusing on Joplin, The Twister: Caught in the Storm. No, it’s actually because of a March 27 article in Christianity Today titled “Donated Clothes Still Being Sorted in Appalachia.”

“[S]ix months after the disaster,” writes Isaac Wood, referring to Hurricane Helene, “First Baptist Church of Roan Mountain is still swimming in donations.”

“We’ve still got probably 10,000 toothbrushes,” pastor Geren Street tells Christianity Today. “We’ve still got 20-something pallets of water bottles. I can’t tell you how much water we’ve given away, and to look out there and still see 20-something pallets? It’s crazy.”

I understand. While my oldest son was already living in Joplin when the tornado hit, the rest of us came back a few weeks later, in time to experience “the disaster after the disaster.” That’s what a friend who was instrumental in our church’s response efforts called it. So much was given to help the people of our community: the toothbrushes, the bottles of water that we all were drinking months later, the containers of clothing needing to be sorted by sex, by size, and by whether they were even wearable. And then there was the truckload of hundreds of flip flops with soles that would leave behind a picture in wet sand.

I thought my friend had made up the phrase “the disaster after the disaster.” But it turns out he probably heard it from one of the seasoned relief workers who’d shown up to help. Wood’s article points to several experts referring to the massive inpouring of donations—especially used clothing—as “the second disaster,” “a second-tier disaster,” and yes, “the disaster after the disaster.“

People experienced in relief work know to watch for the difficulties that follow natural disasters. They anticipate not only the need to take care of donations that demand huge amounts of time, space, and attention, but they also know to warn counselors, therapists, religious leaders, teachers, and parents to watch for the spiritual, mental, and emotional issues that will arise for months and years to come.

For some of you, who have faced or will face natural disasters in your part of the world, there’s practical advice here. But for all of us, in other areas of our lives and work, we can apply the lesson of looking out for how a solution can bring its own challenges, how an answer can lead to more questions. It’s “the thing after the thing.” . . .

Read the rest of my post at A Life Overseas. . . .

photo: “Binoculars V,” by Chase Elliot Clark, used under a Creative Commons license]