I am stuck. The tragedy in South East Asia will not go away. I find I think about it every day. I read about it. I write about it.
I find a poem or a song that I think captures the moment, and I write it down. It is as though if I could capture the essence of what has happened, then it would make things easier.
I have discovered that a mere understanding of pain and suffering, does not make it go away. It might even make it worse. For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.
What are my own heartaches compared to the misery caused by that unforgiving wall of water, that swept so many innocent people into oblivion.
I am warm. I have eaten. I talked to my children today. I have a home. I will sleep in my own bed tonight. There is some sadness in all of our lives, though nothing compared to the devastation that struck the families living on the rim of that monsterous 1000 kilometer earthquake.
Homes washed way. Cold and hungry, loved ones lost. An indiscriminate deluge, that saw tiny Alexander Lindman washed away by the waves.
What am I looking for? The same as what everyone is looking for. A word of hope to lift me up. A kind word to lighten my heart. A caring hand to ease my load.
I want the cold snow in my world to sparkle with beauty, and the warm sand in their world to feel good beneath their feet.
I want to see things differently. I want to get from here to there, and no photo and no word is helping me at the moment.
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