Hurricane Rita's Tender Mercies
By Jackie Daly

Editor’s Note:  Jackie’s evacuation was the subject of a story in Meridian when Hurricane Rita was about to make landfall.  Read that story here from an outsider’s perspective.  Here is the postscript, as seen through her own eyes.

One Sunday, I sat in a pew and listened to the fresh testimony of a newly baptized convert. He spoke of a prayer that he had with Heavenly Father, asking for work. I was awed by his level of obedience to every detail of the Holy Spirit.

As this humble man began his prayer, he was inspired to kneel for the prayer, and before he
could really begin his prayer in earnest, he was to told to get up and go into his garage for the prayer.  He obeyed and went into the garage.

He again knelt down and was stopped again and given further direction by the Holy Ghost and told to speak his prayer aloud.  As he began his prayer he felt the Spirit direct him to turn to the north and he knelt down again.

After following these many directions he spoke his prayer aloud to Heavenly Father and asked for work that he might be able to provide for his family. The next day the phone rang many times during the day with offers of work for this faithful and obedient man.

I sat this day humbled and wondered if I would have followed all the directions — and knew that I probably would not have done all of these steps.

As I reflected on this testimony, I realized I needed this humility in my life and determined that if I were given the opportunity, I would take all measures needed to show my love, gratitude, and faith on a higher level than the one I had become so comfortable with.

Hurricane Rita gave me this opportunity.

When my friend Randi Custer asked me to prove my faith in God, he sent me an email suggesting that I go into my garden, cut some flowers, and put the flowers in a vase on the table.  I did just that with the aid of my son John. He walked through the yard and pointed out the ones in my yard that were the best. I had explained to him that we would do this as a sign of faith and hope that our home would be spared.  John knew that only the best blossoms would do.

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These flowers thrived during Jackie’s absence during the hurricane.  In fact, some of them grew roots in the water and were later planted as hurricane remembrances.

As my sons and I prepared to leave, yet another email came, “I just looked on the map to see where you live.  Jackie, it will take a miracle to save your house. I love miracles! It’s going to be fine.”  Although I felt a great deal of fear and dread, these words made me snicker.  Laughing was good medicine.

Randi then suggested putting my favorite scripture on the door, window, or anywhere that I could as a note to the destroying angel.  He suggested that if I didn’t have any favorites of my own, a good one to use would be Doctrine and Covenants Section 89:21:

And I, the Lord, give unto you a promise, that the destroying angel shall pass by them, as the children of Israel, and not slay them. Amen.

 I remembered another hurricane, Andrew, more than a decade ago.  We were not able to leave the city then, because my husband’s employers kept him there for securing the plant where he worked.  By the time we could leave, the highways were full. This same scripture had brought me great peace of mind then and I knew that it was the perfect one again. I took a marker and went outside and wrote it on the wood covering the large front window. I felt grateful to show my faith.  I knew that whatever happened, God loved me and His will — whether my house stood or fell — would be what was best for me. In writing this scripture, there was comfort.

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This scripture offered comfort and protection in two hurricanes, a decade apart.

While we finished our preparations to leave there were many others who asked my son John to come help.  He responded to all those requests.  Finally, with the work done, we locked our home and left. As we were in the long lines of traffic, John taught me one more beautiful lesson. We had passed the home of a woman who was a non-member, widowed, and who owed my son for more than two months of work that he had done for her.  He knows he will never see payment for that work.

A few moments later he said, “Mom, I feel bad. I should have gone to her house and helped her board up her windows.”

How honored I felt to be the mother of such a wonderful spirit! I felt rich and at peace and I was content as we sat there in traffic. I had a son whose heart was bigger than anything I might lose to Rita, and I was happy.

Before the hurricane, my friend Randi Custer went to the place that he prayed and poured out his heart to God.  As he was praying about my situation, he spoke to God about Aaron’s rod and how it had blossomed long after it was cut and no longer living.  Randi asked, “Let there be a profusion of blossoms that she will know that Thou art with her.”  He told me about this prayer — adding that when he prayed for this blessing he was probably thinking of preserving the flowers that I had left on the table. 

When I came home I looked out an upstairs window and saw a pear tree blooming in my backyard.  This was a new pear tree, and it had not bloomed in the spring because it had recently been transplanted.  It wasn’t due to blossom in September, either.  Here we were right after the storm had passed, when the ground was littered with limbs, branches, and leaves — and yet, here were delicate branches that should never have survived the storm, bearing new blossoms from buds that should have been blown off by the first gust of wind.  I knew — and Randi knew — that this answer to his prayer was one of God’s tender mercies.

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These delicate pear blossoms were waiting when Jackie returned from her evacuation, serving as yet another tender mercy showing her that she had been watched over during the storm.

But God had not yet finished showering us with blossoms.  When we returned to our home after the evacuation, we were surprised and pleased to see that some of the cuttings in the bouquet we had left on the table had started to grow roots.  We have planted those cuttings as a permanent reminder of how our faith was tested — and rewarded — during the fury of the storm.

I am a mother thrice blessed.  I am blessed to come back to a home with everything still in place, and I’m even more richly blessed in the sweet knowledge of the choice children who have been entrusted into my care.  I am also blessed to know that God watches out for me, and sends me evidences of that love.