Last week Trace and I were glued to the tv watching Hurricane Ike rumble towards the Texas coast. I couldn't help but reflect back on the years we lived in McAllen, Texas when I was a young pre-teenager. The view of Galvaston was eerily familiar to the memories I have of Padre Island. For all the times Dad tried to get me to like fresh shrimp ... well ... didn't work. (The only seafood I can moderately tolerate is tuna ... with LOTS of mayonnaise.) Sorry, Dad. Do you remember taking us to a nice seafood restaurant on Padre Island--only for me to order a hamburger? I wish I could say I've matured, but if we were to revisit that restaurant today, I'm afraid my order would only change slightly. I might order steak. :)
I'm so sorry for all the families and animals that faced such destruction. The church's humanitarian machine is in full force, and for that I'm thankful. In fact I spent almost six hours yesterday putting together hygiene and school kits and quilting quilts. I hope those who will receive them know how sorry we are for the disruptions in their lives and pray for their happiness.
Isn't this an amazing picture? A lone house survived this neighborhood. Talk about "living in the world but not of the world."
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