Is it just me?

It's like the world ran into a fallen log in the road, and until the debris is cleared nothing is right.

It sounds so dramatic coming out of me, but I feel this way. Katrina hit hundreds of miles from my home, far enough away it seems surreal. But the air isn't right, and my soul isn't still.

We have a few folks who have made it to my town on their own, and we may get many more. Maybe not. Everything is uncertain.

All I can do is obsess or pray. When I catch myself obsessing, I pray.

And I'm assessing. Yet another prudent reminder that my surroundings are ephemeral against the backdrop of eternity, and that my sentiments tend to be deeply rooted in them.

So, I pray.

It's not so much a darkness I feel as it is an ache. I don't pray to lose the ache; I pray that the source of the ache will heal. I don't think it's my ache. I think it belongs to all of us. I don't want to stop feeling it until we're healed. But, maybe it's just that I need to hold it, control it somehow. But it's not about me.

So I pray.