It hardly seems like time to be a writer at times like this. Talk about unrecoverable.
It’s difficult not to feel a fair bit superfluous as a word-crafter next to the sore reality of so much anguish, suffering, and death. In the face of such facts, you really can’t deny we’re a fragile lot, more fragile even than most. We depend on so much more than shelter and food to sustain our livelihoods.
Yet from another vantage point, as well as feeling fortunate, it makes me very proud to be a writer. I have words where others don’t. I have an outlet to communicate the facts, the stories, the emotions that arise from disaster and the inevitable horrors that occur. I have a choice, and I have a voice.
If I didn’t write when the world suffered, it would be only more waste. Instead, by writing, I face the truth and I share things others wish to express. I provide hope and the sense that despite it all, there is always a spark of redemption as long as we survive. In surviving another day, there’s hope.
What are your thoughts, feelings, sensations right now as you watch?
hi mick. i was just needing a breath of fresh air, and here it is. thank you for struggling through the muck of life to share your heart.
what do i think, i think we need God desperately to come and make things right. not armageddon, just to give us compassion (and i speak mostly of myself). i’ve prayed and watched and watched and prayed but i can’t do more. i don’t know how to do anything of dear import. i am hamstrung by circumstances i cannot even begin to utter.
so i just pray for those covering the news, those in the news, those sheltering those in the news, those robbing those wanting to help those in the news, and those who are not sure what to do–like me i guess.
words are a marvelous comfort and i am sorry that i have drunk my fill of katrina and tales of woe. i am greatly encouraged by the compassion of so many, and find myself intrigued by humanity. i understand the racial aspects and i’m trying to stay out of the fray on that. but it is hard to be silent at times like these.
suz.