I'd like to lead into this next paragraph with suave and intrigue and something catchy, but the fact of the matter is that I am ashamed to admit tonight that I couldn't watch CNN. I was reading Dooce earlier and how she and her family couldn't tear themselves away. I couldn't do it. It sickens me to watch something like that. And when I say that, I mean the overwhelming helplessness of the hurricane and the slowness of our race to save those in need - to provide. Quite frankly, I feel useless. And I'm not familiar with that. I'm usually the first one there, dirty hands and ready to work. Maybe this is my moment to learn about the true and ferverant nature of prayer. Of prayer that is outside of me. It's like I suddenly see through me and in the light of all my 'capabilities', and I'm suddenly very frail and very scared and very helpless. And I say this while sitting in a dry townhouse with a clean bed, a full fridge while I bellyache about my gas guage at 3/4 full. It all seems pretty hollow to me.
There's a great desire in me to stand on the rooftop, shake my fist and loft a hearty "WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH WITH YOU??!!! But nice girls don't say things like that. But if we did, it should probably be more along the lines of 'WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER... with me?"
Do you know what's cool? Is the fact that my mom is just learning how to email. She sends them, with cap locks on and says "HI KID. JUST WANTED TO WISH YOU A GOOD DAY. I LOVE YOU. YOU'RE RIGHT WHERE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE AND I'M PROUD OF YOU. ONE DAY I'LL GET THIS COMPUTER STUFF FIGURED OUT!! LOVE, MOM XOXOXOXO".
Do you know what I love the most? Is that everytime I use the cap locks, it's to emphasize something important. My mom thought everything in that note to me was important. Atleast that's the way I'm reading it.
Me and Vince are getting ready for bed and I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I'M GLAD YOU'RE OUT THERE, AND THAT I'M PRAYING FOR YOU EVEN THOUGH I'M NOT ALWAYS SO GOOD AT IT. AND THAT I'M FAR FROM PERFECT. AND SO ARE YOU. BUT IT REALLY DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE I THINK YOU'RE PRETTY AMAZING.
Sleep tight, folks. Pray hard. Love strong. Laugh often. You matter. A LOT.
And this for comfort thou must know:
Times that are ill won't still be so;
Clouds will not ever pour down rain;
A sullen day will clear again.
Robert Herrick (1591-1974)