September

Oh how I’ve longed for thee!

September is so bittersweet. That first glorious end of summer day – warm, dry, blue, blue sky and I’m immediately back to that morning four years ago. I was psyching myself up for a run, doing some work. I hadn’t turned on the TV yet. My father called. At that time, my father never called unless it was bad. And it was.

Watching the utter devastation on the television last night, I was reminded of a rainy gray day in the aftermath. The reporter was saying that sometimes the best thing to do is fill your car up with bottled water and clothes and supplies and drive them to the nearest place in need and just give it away. That’s exactly what I did four years ago. I got in my car, drove to my warehouse store and filled my car with water and gatorade and batteries and t-shirts and whatever else was on the “list.” I drove my treasures to a drop off point, the whole time the smoke from ground zero visible in my windshield.

There’s something inherently fascinating about devastation so extreme. It’s numbing almost, seeing image upon image and not being able to FEEL what they feel. But last night I connected – I was overwhelmed at the memory of driving in my car to help, but not being able to escape, for even a second, the horror of what had happened.

I’ve never been to New Orleans, or the Gulf Coast, but I know its importance in American History and Culture. I pray these events are only a tremendous setback, and not an inevitable loss.

Visit Margene for details on giving.