We inch forward with prayer

The flooding and devastation is paralyzing in ways. I can hardly look anymore, but the people and animals in the storm can not look away, they will live it for months ahead, maybe years. The trauma that has been inflicted on so many, and we only hear a fraction of the stories. I awoke thinking of the man who lost his children and elderly parents as he witnessed their van being swept away, hearing and seeing the young children crying. Moments earlier he had escaped the van that he was driving, and tried to get the children out, but they could not open the door. They were all fond dead the next day. He must now live with that sight, and sound, forever. He thought he was doing the right thing, he most likely was, taking them to higher ground. He said his only ounce of comfort is knowing his parents were holding hands.

So I awoke thinking of them. And then for some reason I thought of all the rabbits. I held my rabbit and thought of the many children or adults that had to leave cherished pets, or items, behind. And then they must wait not know what is happening.

I had to stop myself.

I refocused. I prayed for them. I'm not religious, but I believe in the power of prayer, the power of our intentions more than our words. Our prayers are intentions I believe, the things we say when no one might be listening. I believe our actions are like prayers too, but a prayer is the beginning to acting on intent.

Watch their feet, not the tongue, an old Native American saying goes.

So Opie and I went to visit the elders. It was a beautiful day and I was so pleased to get two more photos of Opie, one with Richard and another with Mary who is quiet but very sweet. I just love this picture. I am making small prints of each resident with Opie in little frames for their rooms. They seem to like this a lot. Opie is very spunky today, and they liked that too. I got him in play mode, and he did some rearing on his hind legs.

One of the residents had a mother visiting too. They were praying when I arrived in the garden area. I told them I would wait, I didn't want to intrude, and the mother said,

"No, come over, we are just praying...for friends and family, and Houston."

I did not come from a family of prayers. We never prayed. We were stoic Minnesotans and I know my mother and father felt uncomfortable with anyone looking at them and saying they'd pray for them. I had to come to my own belief system, without the aid of my parents. My mother once said she wishes she had given us that, a foundation of something. I'm glad she didn't really. It forced me to seek out my own beliefs, and I have.

Somehow it came up today at our visit that I was going to the eye doctor soon for some issues. The mother said she would pray for me.

To be honest, it felt rather nice to know a stranger would pray for me.

And so must the many in Texas and other hard hit areas-to be humbled down to the bone...no matter what one's upbringing, a prayer might be all you get to inch forward, day by day in recovery.