(no subject)
I paid $42.12 for gas yesterday in Upstate South Carolina where gas prices made only a $.50-.80 jump in the last 24 hours, as opposed to so very many other places where gas has jumped much, much higher, BUT, as I explained to myself yesterday as I paid those $42.12 for that tank that I had to have to get home, I have a dry, safe home to go back to, and every one I hold near and dear is dry, safe, and accounted for.
In complete and utter honesty, I am grateful to pay $42.12 in gas. I am deeply, deeply grateful that I can afford that extra $15-20 in gas without any major life alteration.
I watched images yesterday and the day before of people who had lost everything. There was a heart-wrenching encounter with a man who had lost hold of his wife when she told him to let go of her and hold on to their grandbabies. Obviously in shock and feeling the greif, he told the woman with the microphone that hasn't seen his wife since, and Jack Johnson's words echoed in my head... "Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die?/ At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes..."
God bless that newscaster. The humanity was not lost on her. She cried right along with that man, and I was reminded of the fragility of life and the beauty of this thing called a soul that continues on past the body and that feels other souls and is the essence of each of us... I thanked God that the man is a soul, a soul united to that wife and he may never find... that wife who told that man that the grandbabies are the precious ones... that grandmother that gave her grandbabies life in one of the most real senses.
I remember feeling this way once before... when the planes crashed into the Twin Towers. I remember feeling that there is no way that the people living right around there could ever recover... how does one recover from something to heinous? I remember being bewildered at simply the thought of the dust and bodies and fire and physical surroundings there... I prayed for the firefighters and police and volunteers that did the cleaning. I prayed for the families of the people who were trapped inside and threw themselves from the top... those who decided that they would rather end their lives themselves than be killed by those aggressors... or whatever they decided... I was, and still am completely lost in any attempt to wrap my mind around this except when I realize that God is going somewhere with this country and that every heartache is one more way in which we are molded as a people for something unfathomable that must be accomplished. We did "recover" from that experience as a people, and there was a spirit in this country that exisited at that point that I couldn't quite put my finger on... we were gentler with each other. Regardless of how we phrased it, we had the desire to protect and defend each other from aggressors, wherever we perceived them to be. Something within all of us hurt, as that tragedy was something that none of us could be cold in the face of.
I feel the same way about this. I crave a world in which those harmed by Katrina are taken in and provided for... a world in which we cry on each other's shoulders and dry each other's tears. I ache for a world in which we all feel this tragedy to the very core of our being... where there is no one to lash out at and no one that can save us but each other... a world in which we do hold each other, feed each other, pack eachother up, and send each other back out into the world, ready for the next thing... because there is always a next thing.
God, may I always have enough of myself to share.
Please buy your gas gently and gratefully... my thoughts and prayers are pointed towards the Gulf Coast and all of everyone trying to find a way through it...
In complete and utter honesty, I am grateful to pay $42.12 in gas. I am deeply, deeply grateful that I can afford that extra $15-20 in gas without any major life alteration.
I watched images yesterday and the day before of people who had lost everything. There was a heart-wrenching encounter with a man who had lost hold of his wife when she told him to let go of her and hold on to their grandbabies. Obviously in shock and feeling the greif, he told the woman with the microphone that hasn't seen his wife since, and Jack Johnson's words echoed in my head... "Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die?/ At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes..."
God bless that newscaster. The humanity was not lost on her. She cried right along with that man, and I was reminded of the fragility of life and the beauty of this thing called a soul that continues on past the body and that feels other souls and is the essence of each of us... I thanked God that the man is a soul, a soul united to that wife and he may never find... that wife who told that man that the grandbabies are the precious ones... that grandmother that gave her grandbabies life in one of the most real senses.
I remember feeling this way once before... when the planes crashed into the Twin Towers. I remember feeling that there is no way that the people living right around there could ever recover... how does one recover from something to heinous? I remember being bewildered at simply the thought of the dust and bodies and fire and physical surroundings there... I prayed for the firefighters and police and volunteers that did the cleaning. I prayed for the families of the people who were trapped inside and threw themselves from the top... those who decided that they would rather end their lives themselves than be killed by those aggressors... or whatever they decided... I was, and still am completely lost in any attempt to wrap my mind around this except when I realize that God is going somewhere with this country and that every heartache is one more way in which we are molded as a people for something unfathomable that must be accomplished. We did "recover" from that experience as a people, and there was a spirit in this country that exisited at that point that I couldn't quite put my finger on... we were gentler with each other. Regardless of how we phrased it, we had the desire to protect and defend each other from aggressors, wherever we perceived them to be. Something within all of us hurt, as that tragedy was something that none of us could be cold in the face of.
I feel the same way about this. I crave a world in which those harmed by Katrina are taken in and provided for... a world in which we cry on each other's shoulders and dry each other's tears. I ache for a world in which we all feel this tragedy to the very core of our being... where there is no one to lash out at and no one that can save us but each other... a world in which we do hold each other, feed each other, pack eachother up, and send each other back out into the world, ready for the next thing... because there is always a next thing.
God, may I always have enough of myself to share.
Please buy your gas gently and gratefully... my thoughts and prayers are pointed towards the Gulf Coast and all of everyone trying to find a way through it...