Pedestals

If there's anyone with a big head, swelling ego or with thoughts that they are invincible, there have been some stunning reminders the past few years that we are but dust in the ever-blowing wind. I caught myself not feeling sorry for some of the hurricane victims because of the anarchy that is overtaking a handful of utterly desperate, directionless people.

How dare I feel that way? Me, in my high-and-dry home with air conditioning, closet full of clothes, working plumbing and a fridge full of food. Further, if we had been residents of New Orleans, we most likely would have had the means and money to escape the wrath before Katrina churned ashore. We have always had family in many places who would welcome us with open arms as long as it would take to rebuild. But many of those stranded did not have any way to leave and nowhere to go if they did. We have been blessed, and it's important to note that blessings are given despite us not deserving them. They are merciful gifts of grace – no one can earn them because we are all wretched, wretched people.

I see the images on TV and feel like changing the channel, or looking away. Bloated bodies floating in the water, or laying ignored as the living do whatever they can to survive. What I should really be doing is rolling up my sleeves, heeding the call to action that is being shouted from Louisiana and Mississippi and contribute in some way ... money, blood, sweat, tears, prayers, bottled water, whatever it is. Those of us in Texas have a golden opportunity to help, as thousands have and will continue to flow into our state to live for what could amount to years. Some will relocate here with no plans to return to their former lives. Either way, they are coming and we should have open arms.

Such disasters offer a chance for us to count our blessings – something we should do every day in the absence of others' suffering. The things we have taken for granted become so trivial. Our lives are perched on pedestals that, at any time, could be obliterated by natural disasters, losses of loved ones, job layoffs. God bless us all in these trying times.

We'll moan about he high price of gasoline, a rising tide made worse by the hurricane's effects on domestic drilling and production. I'm sure in a few weeks, despite the third-world countryside now on parts of our gulf coast, most of us will return to normal. It happened after 9/11. It happened after the tsunami. It happens during the ongoing conflicts in the Middle East. We who live in America, the freedom we enjoy affords us the freedom to forget and surround ourselves with normalcy. But let's hope we can remember for a long time, at least until the last refugee is wrapped in love and comfort. Then, recovery can merely begin.

I turn 32 on Saturday, but birthdays are so silly at a time like this. We're going to hop into our nice car and drive a few hours to get out of town. Seems so dumb to be escaping a land of plenty just because we need to escape the humdrum business of our lives. It's a trip we'd been planning for months, though, looking forward to some family time we think we deserve. Pedestals are frail, ridiculous things. We strive to be humble, even though we know our bounty of blessings isolate us from the death, damage, drama and destruction. For now.