Not about me...
It's not about me. It seldom is. While this world spins on, my universe sits still, awaiting a nod from something bigger to tell me it's OK to go on complaining, ranting, and otherwise replacing the sun with my own ego. My first post was weeks in the making; a clear, concise, witty foray into the realm of cyberspace. Bells, whistles, and ten miles of URLs peppered the page from top to bottom.
Then along came Katrina.
Since that time, my life has diminished in importance with each new day. What passes for a hard time at the grocery store, a rough hour of traffic, a cold rejection of my manuscript pales in comparison to the complete and utter devastation seen along the Gulf Coast. Thousands dead. Millions displaced for years. Billions needed to scoop up the mess, the lives of an entire region. The thought of losing all I have in a single afternoon has woken me up nightly.
I watched a reporter on CNN interview a man who lost his wife, his home, and his belongings during the storm. His wife's last words to him were, "You can't hold on to me. Let me go. Take care of the kids." And then she was gone.
His story is just the beginning.
Tears are all I have for such disaster. I want to reach out and hug every one of them, and tell them it will be OK. But I can't. I want to coordinate a movement of a million citizens to march into that region and clean it up within a matter of weeks. But I can't. I want to part the waters, bring food to the hungry, water to the thirsty, life to the lifeless. But I can't. All I have are tears and a heart that aches with each passing image.
If you're like me, and you cannot see all ends, if you cannot get your hands around the scope of this tragedy, but you still want to help...you can.
First I would suggest a heavy dose of prayer. Give thanks for what you have, for it is in such dark times that our blessings shine brightest. Pray for the spirits of these people. Ask for miracles. As far as I know, the Almighty hasn't stopped dispensing them.
Second, and of equal importance, give what you can. Donate clothes, food, furniture, service, gas, water, blood, and cash. Find your local bloodbank and let them stick a needle in your arm. Dig into your sofas, your carseats, and your wallet and give to the hurricane relief efforts. Both the Red Cross and the Salvation Army have coordinated efforts going on right now. There are others. The point is to give.
Lastly, spread the word. This won't be the last catastrophe we face. Get to know your neighbor. Put together a survival kit. Take a CPR/first-aid class. Do what it takes to be prepared.
Future postings are promised to be more provacative, with insight into my life and my work. But for now and the foreseeable future, it's not about me.
Then along came Katrina.
Since that time, my life has diminished in importance with each new day. What passes for a hard time at the grocery store, a rough hour of traffic, a cold rejection of my manuscript pales in comparison to the complete and utter devastation seen along the Gulf Coast. Thousands dead. Millions displaced for years. Billions needed to scoop up the mess, the lives of an entire region. The thought of losing all I have in a single afternoon has woken me up nightly.
I watched a reporter on CNN interview a man who lost his wife, his home, and his belongings during the storm. His wife's last words to him were, "You can't hold on to me. Let me go. Take care of the kids." And then she was gone.
His story is just the beginning.
Tears are all I have for such disaster. I want to reach out and hug every one of them, and tell them it will be OK. But I can't. I want to coordinate a movement of a million citizens to march into that region and clean it up within a matter of weeks. But I can't. I want to part the waters, bring food to the hungry, water to the thirsty, life to the lifeless. But I can't. All I have are tears and a heart that aches with each passing image.
If you're like me, and you cannot see all ends, if you cannot get your hands around the scope of this tragedy, but you still want to help...you can.
First I would suggest a heavy dose of prayer. Give thanks for what you have, for it is in such dark times that our blessings shine brightest. Pray for the spirits of these people. Ask for miracles. As far as I know, the Almighty hasn't stopped dispensing them.
Second, and of equal importance, give what you can. Donate clothes, food, furniture, service, gas, water, blood, and cash. Find your local bloodbank and let them stick a needle in your arm. Dig into your sofas, your carseats, and your wallet and give to the hurricane relief efforts. Both the Red Cross and the Salvation Army have coordinated efforts going on right now. There are others. The point is to give.
Lastly, spread the word. This won't be the last catastrophe we face. Get to know your neighbor. Put together a survival kit. Take a CPR/first-aid class. Do what it takes to be prepared.
Future postings are promised to be more provacative, with insight into my life and my work. But for now and the foreseeable future, it's not about me.
posted by GB Miller at 10:04 PM
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