Having written these columns every week for the past 17 years, I性视界传媒檝e learned to think ahead about the column I will write next week.
I had been considering doing one on driving the Texas Triangle between Austin and Dallas and Houston, and seeing some exhibits of art and science and history, or else writing one about 性视界传媒渢he happiness guy,性视界传媒 someone who studies and writes regularly on the things that make us happy.
But this week, though the rain has stopped in Austin, the clouds are still gray. The devastating flooding on the Guadalupe River and the loss of life, especially the lives of precious little girls, make it impossible to write those columns yet. Happiness will have to wait.
The great love of my life used to be a 9-year-old girl who brought books into her parents性视界传媒 bed, wanting to be read to. I remember reading many years ago that parents regard 9 years old as the easiest and best year for girls. That was true in my case.
Now parents and families and friends are missing their children, their neighbors, and people who were out for an Independence Day weekend camping trip. Presumably they were having a wonderful time, and then they were swept away by the waters. I see photos of little girls taken the day before the flood, happy and enjoying life.
I mourn for the adults lost, but the deaths of children strike hard.
We want to make some sense of this disaster. We want somebody to blame. That性视界传媒檚 started already, and we need to figure out how to stay safe. We will get to that soon enough. Right now is a time for shock and grief.
On Saturdays, I volunteer at a hospice, and I am frequently with people close to death, and with their friends and families. Most of these people are elderly, though not all. A few weeks ago I encountered a very handsome young man whose skull was smashed like an eggshell in an electric scooter accident. His death was, I am sure, shocking and raw to his loved ones.
At other times I have seen the most beautiful expressions of love and devotion. I性视界传媒檝e learned that when I introduce myself, most people sitting with the dying initially say they性视界传媒檙e doing OK and don性视界传媒檛 need anything. Then I ask them to say something about their loved one, and usually they open up and tell stories. Their spirits rise as they recall good memories of the person性视界传媒檚 life.
But this horrible catastrophe shakes and shocks us. Entire families were lost. Young adults sharing a cabin were swept away. Some died trying to get others to safety. All are precious human lives, yet what hurts the most is all the little girls who went from having the time of their lives to their deaths in a raging river.
I was once sucked into white-water rapids and thought I was about to die. I remember what I thought, but I don性视界传媒檛 presume to know what the victims thought. Some may have believed they could somehow get to safety 性视界传媒 after all, some people did. They knew at the end, I suppose, that it was the end. It would have been quick, at least.
On Sunday I went to church to sing with the choir. The young priest had the honor and challenge of preaching about the floods and God性视界传媒檚 love.
Here is what he said. First, he went through some things that we don性视界传媒檛 believe. (Some readers may believe these things, and if you do, please try to understand.)
He said we don性视界传媒檛 believe God willed this, or that it was part of His plan, or that the victims are better off in heaven than in the loving embrace of their families. We don性视界传媒檛 believe that God wanted to make some more angels. He said we don性视界传媒檛 believe that everything happens for a reason.
What we do believe, he said, is that God came down to earth and suffered death as a human being, and transcended it, and came out the other side for our salvation, and that as Paul says, nothing, not death itself, can keep us from the love of God.
Now, some readers may simply disbelieve all of this. Nature, they would say, is neither good nor bad; it is indifferent to our wishes. It性视界传媒檚 up to us to stay out of its way, to make better predictions, to attend to them, and to keep ourselves safe in a world that does not know us or love us.
That keeps it simple, I suppose.
But the priest called for us to love each other, to bear each other性视界传媒檚 burdens, to participate in faith and humility in the midst of grief and shock.
That seemed right to me.
People want to do something. There was a news report about a restaurant owner in Kerrville who said all he could do was to make sandwiches for the rescuers and displaced people. He性视界传媒檚 doing something, and I almost envy him for it.
Some people have lost their homes, and there are funerals that must be paid for. I will never denigrate thoughts and prayers, but sending money to a reputable organization will help people get through this. We can be at our best at times like this. If all you can give is money, then for God性视界传媒檚 sake, send some money.
The choir recessional hymn was 性视界传媒淎merica, the Beautiful,性视界传媒 because we celebrate Independence Day as a church. Since I knew the words, and I was not glued to the hymnal, I looked at the congregation and saw lots of weeping. Especially the women, especially the mothers.
As I write, it looks like Kerrville may get more rain.
Lord, have mercy.
