Things Could Always Be Worse

I’m a big believer in never saying that things can’t get worse, because they always can. I also have a habit of pulling myself out of feeling bad for myself about anything by simply taking a look around. Katrina was awful. The twelve hours or more than she pounded us was terrifying, the days afterwards, with the heat and the bugs and the worry over how long our food and water and meds would last was something I don’t want to ever go through again, but…

There’s always a but isn’t there. (Smile)

I still have only a few local channels, but I’ve caught some news and I have the MSN homepage. The two headlines there that caught my eye today were Thousands killed in Asia quake & Hundreds killed in Guatemala mudslide.

Like I said, Katrina was awful and thousands of people were injured or suffered, and probably by the time they get through with the counts, more than two thousand paid the highest price of all, the price of life. But… when you put two thousand up beside twenty, maybe thirty thousand, it puts things in a better perspective of just how very lucky the states that were hit by Katrina really were.

My city, Bogalusa, has a population of around fifteen thousand. That means everyone here could have died during Katrina and we still wouldn’t have reached the numbers from that earthquake alone. I can’t imagine being in the middle of that kind of death, where whole towns are gone, where maybe one single family member is left to stand alone without even a friend alive to turn to.

We got a really good taste of what it’s like not to have power, phone, running water, stores, police, even a hospital, but when it got too bad and we knew we couldn’t take any more, we were able to load up in my husband’s truck and drive away to help. It might have taken us a couple of days to cut a path to get that truck out, and maybe we had to drive hours away, but family was there waiting and we had the means to get there. Once there and near a phone, my on line sisters and others rushed to my aid. I received calls, cards, letters, even gift cards and money, to help me at least start to start over, to assure me I was cared for and held close with prayers, thoughts and warm light and love.

I had my husband, my children, even my pets, and we weren’t alone, not really, not for one single second. I wish it could be that way for everyone!