I couldn't come up with a "fitting" word...

Today was a pretty nice day. A week of nearly steady cloud wringing came to an end. The spare sump pump was unplugged. The sun struggled and managed to pop out for a bit. (Near Lake Erie, we get a lot of gray skies this time of year.) I solved most of the New York Times crossword puzzle...Saturdays are toughies! Got a great book at a garage sale for 25 cents and found a nearly new keyboard to replace the one onto which I spilled water and had my desktop doing things Bill Gates never could imagine. In the past 11 years, very few events have had a continuing pull on my attention: The Twin Towers, 2 Tsunamis and Sandy Storm. So much damage and so many lives lost/affected in such a short amount of time. When mass tragedy strikes, Americans pull together...without any prompting whatsoever. They just do it! It's who we are. Income, political persuasion, ethnicity, team loyalty, schooling, etc., matter not. People merely grab anything that will help and take it to those who lost out. There are no introductions and no prejudices. There are no language barriers. The eyes tell the stories. The eyes display the loss. They eyes convey the need. In turmoil, there are the sufferers and the bringers. No borders. Just helpers. Life must go on. It will. It always does. I could quickly fill several pages, but don't need to. You know of what I speak. At one time in your lives, you needed and received, no matter how small or large. At one time in your lives, you gave, no matter how small or large. Possessions were/are not always exchanged. Times such as this tells us why God invented hugs.........yep, 'nuff said there, eh? All that in mind, I caught a portion of the ABC news on my local affiliate. That particular segment centered on the New York Marathon's cancellation. Mayor Bloomberg, in my opinion, made the correct call. Few, if any, residents were involved in the running. They were busy in their own races against shock of loss, wet, hunger, cold, missing family and all that accompanies tragedy. Yet, the camera happened to focus on what appeared to be a nice looking blond lady that I guessed might have been in her early thirties. Her words were very close to, "We're upset, we're extremely mad that the race was called off. We traveled many miles, brought families and reserved hotel rooms." She was upset and vehement in her delivery of those words. (Here's where I couldn't come up with a "fitting word" to describe her audacity). In lieu of that, I will stifle the urge to introduce her neck to my knuckles. One wonders what could be done to satisfy this obviously self-entitled ------, ------, ------, ------. Even if the race COULD have been, the entrants would all have to run over, around and through the rubble. Did she consider that? I have to stop here, as I could go on for pages, but don't need to. All I can suggest is that she sue God and may she hope to never experience what she was so put out by. God bless America.

From Page 279 of, "The Shack"

"Most of us have our own grief, broken dreams, and damaged hearts, each of us our unique losses, our own "shack." I pray you find the same grace there that I did, and that the abiding presence of Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu will fill up your inside emptiness with joy unspeakable and full of glory." (The author's words)

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You needn't be of a particular religion or of any at all to be taken into the experience of one Mackenzie Allen Phillips. You needn't have experienced any trauma at all to be taken on such an emotional trek. You needn't believe in any "supreme being" or "higher power" to be impacted by the tale. Allow yourself a mind-clearing breath or two, prior to stepping aboard. DO read the foreward! It will prepare you for the style, humor and interpretation of the author, Wm. Paul Young.

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Not reading anywhere NEAR as I did previously, this was not easy to put aside. Being that I began after dark, I did finish the following day..........Compelling, to say the least!