What a strange thing it is to wake up and have a new taste in your mouth. I wonder if, after living through something like the loss of all your furniture, your family photos, your clothes, your silverware and good china and car and neighborhood, if salt tastes the same.

Or if that salt would remind you of the sea, of the wind and waves that washed your life away.

I am wondering if Texas can ever look at the ocean the same way again.

The team and I are working on Colleen’s home. We haven’t met her or her family yet, but we know what her house looks like on the inside, and that is quite an intimate thing given that most people probably haven’t even seen the inside of their best friends’ medicine cabinet.

We don’t know Colleen, but we do know her house and material things mean more when you’ve built a house. In this case, that makes the loss of Colleen’s things all the more tragic.

I know that we cannot give her back what she no longer has. But I do have hope that these new things will replace something inside her- not because they are new, but because her home and all the things in it have been brought together piece by piece by a group of people who think she and her family are worth something, and that what they’ve gone through and lost mean something.

May we bathe your home in prayer and peace and hope- that you and your family may start anew with strings of pearls in your hands, and celebration in your hearts.

Tags: Meghan Curran

This entry was posted on Friday, October 24th, 2008 at 10:42 am and is filed under Disaster, Hurricane Relief, North America, OBI Volunteer Blogs, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.