Alanis Morisette's "Hand In My Pocket" was playing on the radio as I went to pick up Hannah from work tonight and that particular line stuck a chord in me as my thoughts went from the astronomical gas prices to the disastrous effects of nature's wrath that are behind them.
I'm scared. Whole cities have been swallowed up in the depths of the sea--it's as if I'm reading the Book of Mormon, only it's the headlines on MSNBC. But even more that being scared, I'm sad:
I mourn the deaths the occurred during the storm itself.
I mourn those who lost their lives in the subsequent storm surges and floodwaters.
I mourn for the survivors who are stranded, still awaiting rescue.
I mourn the lost possessions, the damaged livelihoods, the tarnished memories.
I mourn the country whose thirst for the terrible has accustomed the media to highlighting tales of terror instead of stories of hope.
But most of all, I mourn those who have allowed their better selves to be overwhelmed by the situation. Those who have let hate and fear wash away their humanity as Katrina washed away their homes. Those whose only response to tragedy is to rape, pillage, and plunder until patients have to be moved to the upper floors of the hospitals because looters have made the lower floors unsafe. Until police have to halt rescue efforts because they are being fired upon. Until store owners must guard their doors at gunpoint in order to stop the robbery of their goods. Until the dead are left lying in the streets as officials try to restore order among the living. And until people who should unite in their time of tragedy instead live in fear of their own.
So in your thoughts pray, and in your prayers plead--that sanity be returned, peace be restored, spirits rejuvenated, and hope revived.
Then know that "what it all comes down to, is that everything is gonna be fine, fine, fine."