Road Less Traveled: Just Call Me Sister Stud - My Week In New Orleans Take Two

"You got a gypsy soul to blame and you were born for living."

- Zac Brown Band, Colder Weather

You can just call me Sister Stud (no, not muffin) from now on. WHAT?! Ok, for those of you who have ever worked in construction, you already know what a Sister Stud is. For those of you (most of you) who have not, a Sister Stud is this...ok, wait...first I should tell you what a Stud is: A stud is a piece of wood, used to frame a house or any other type of building. A Sister Stud is another piece of wood, nailed or screwed, to the original stud to help reinforce the original. I learned about Sister Studs on my last day at our worksite in New Orleans while putting up dry wall (least favorite job ever..) on the ceiling. At first I thought Alex, our supervisor, was just cracking a joke at our CATHOLIC school group when he said Sister Stud...and then after us laughing at him, he said, "Seriously, that's what it's called." And then I realized the beautiful allegory (if you've been following me long enough, you've realized by now that EVERYTHING is an allegory) of the Sister Stud.

Ok so a Sister Stud reinforces any already established Stud. All this time I've been Sister Studding walls like it was no big deal. The studs that we had been Sister Studding were, as you can imagine, water logged from all the water damage from Hurricane Katrina. While a bit damaged, they were still standing; they just needed some help. After I had thought this all out on our last work day I realized that I, Becca Gutherman, am a Sister Stud and the people of New Orleans are the original Studs. These original studs have been a little bit damaged by the hurricane waters and just need a little help from some Sister Studs. And so, there I was putting in literal Sister Studs all the while being a figurative Sister Stud, myself.

So why New Orleans (which will now be shortened to NOLA)? Well, why not? One of my favorite songs from the Zac Brown Band is Colder Weather (as quoted above) for that very line of possessing a gypsy soul. From our multitude of fairy tales and history lessons we know that the gypsies are a nomadic people, always on the move and so am I. From a very young age, I've always wanted to do missionary work. Whether it's rebuilding houses or villages, or running orphanages in foreign countries or teaching adults in a classroom or even just performing music for heavy souls, I've always, always wanted to travel the world to help people. At first my idea was to get right on a plane and fly to Uganda, Africa, a place that's still on my bucket list. However, that opportunity never arose. So, I decided to start small and headed to NOLA in May 2011 with a small group from Campus Ministry. This May, I couldn't help my eagerness in volunteering again.

NOLA has a place in my heart that I can't really describe with words. When I think of what I love most about NOLA it's the spirit of the people. Regardless of whether you are helping them specifically or just someone from their huge city, they are grateful. They sit on their front porches and wave to you, smile at you and if you're walking down the street, they might come over to you and give you a great big hug. When you go to Mass with them, they will take your hand during the Our Father and hold it straight through to the Sign of Peace where they will proceed to hug you and say, "Peace be with you, babygirl/sugar/sweetheart/etc." When you're on your break from stuffing insulation or dry walling or painting, and stop to talk to the people walking down the street, they will ask your name (because names are so important), hug you, thank you over and over and over, hug you again, and go on their merry way. When you hold their hand as you listen to their story at the Homeless Mission, they will smile so big when you call them sweetheart, and you know you've made their day, week or even month. When you ask them to dance with you instead of packing boxes of food at the Food Bank, they will turn off the conveyor belt and join you for a few minutes before suggesting you get back to work. When you're walking down the streets of NOLA, in the French Quarter, in Gentilly, in the 7th Ward, in the 9th Ward, by Lake Pontchartrain, by the Wetlands, by the Mississippi River and the levee, the people of NOLA will show you their love, their appreciation but most importantly, their hope. These people of NOLA are my type of people, a people I could easily blend with because I am so alike them in my smiles, my waves and my hope. These people are a people I would live with for years and years if I could.

The moment I stepped off the plane in the airport, I felt at home. That feeling of home continued all throughout the week we insulated bathrooms, attics and ceilings, dry walled ceilings and walls, painted a house's exterior for days, fed the homeless at the homeless mission and organized food at the Food Bank. Everything we did last week, felt so right, so perfect, so me. And the fact that my Daddy was right there with me supporting me and getting right into the dirty work right next to me, made my week. We did so much work last week as a group and I know I can easily speak for everyone, when I say it was a week of summer well spent. It felt like I was home again, like I had a purpose in changing the world, like I was finally doing what I am meant to do with my life!!!

Before I end this blog post, I must share with you one of many moments that brought me to tears this week. Among those moments were seeing the HUGE about of homeless men and women still present in NOLA, having TJ propose to me twice, having my dad reflect time and time again on his experience in NOLA, having him change all the "loves" in "Perhaps Love" to "Jesus" (do it, I promise you, you will cry), welcoming home Miss Courtenay to her home. While all of these will leave a lasting impression on my heart, one of the most rewarding experiences was driving by Miss Ora Joseph's house, a house I worked on last May. The house was literally just a frame when we started. We put down floor boards our first day and then bricked the whole exterior. However, there was still a ton of work left to do when we left that week. Driving by her FINISHED house literally brought tears to my eyes. I can't even explain how amazing it felt to see a front porch, and two cars in her driveway. Literally, I felt so blessed. Now, while I didn't get to see Miss Ora, I knew that she must have been so happy in her new and finished home after waiting seven years. I couldn't thank God enough!

My week in NOLA is another week I will never forget. I am so blessed to be given a missionary heart and a gypsy soul. And I am more than blessed to have met and been remembered by the people of NOLA. I am blessed to feel so at home in a city full of studs. And I am so blessed to have become a Sister Stud!! I can honestly say, I see myself going back time and time again...maybe even for a longer period of time!!

Thanks for all your prayers during my week there and please, please continue to pray for those who are still suffering from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and those who are volunteering.