When this mission trip was first planned, we understood that we'd be working on new construction through the local Habitat for Humanity affiliate. New construction giving people a new chance in a new home -- what could be better?

Well.....maybe today. Maybe stepping into the front door of 1510 Mandolin Street in the Gentilly neighborhood. Maybe stepping into the reality of Maude Renfro and countless others --- still waiting, still wondering, if they'll ever get back in their old homes again.

How hard it must be to see your home gutted, reduced to nothing but mold -covered studs. The flood waters are long gone, but have left a legacy that render a dry home unfit for rebuilding. The staying power of mold adds insult to injury. It must be treated everywhere, no stud unturned, or it might as well not be treated anywhere. The house's skeleton has to be scrubbed and treated before it can ever put on flesh and blood again. Hours in protective masks and rubber gloves, up to elbows in buckets of bleach solution scrubbing down every side of every piece of wood, floor to ceiling. And then to seal the deal, and to kill off any unwanted housemates (translate termites), a follow up with a pressurized sprayer filled with a boric acid solution.
Others cleared out the debris and overgrowth from Mrs. Renfro's backyard. Between drywall and debris, the dumpster was filled before lunchtime.

Throughout the day, we had opportunities to visit with Mrs. Renfro, to hear her story, to sense her struggle, to be inspired by her faith. Over and over again, she'd say words that, until today, I admit have grown too well-worn and familiar ---- "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." You shall not want, Maude? Not even a house? Not even some assurance your needs will be met? "The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want." Her statement of faith was a profound inspiration --- the knot to which she held when she was truly at the end of her rope. And truly, as she did, she knew that One held her. In the midst of mold and more loss than anyone should have to endure. "I shall not want."

Tomorrow -- new construction. There won't be any mold to be scrubbed away. But the mold is memory that even boric acid can't eradicate. And I'll always be grateful.

Jenny