Early today when I wasn’t at home, I composed a blog post in my head. I connected the various ideas together, satisfied I’d given each one the right weight and place. Now, of course, as I sit in front of my computer with the entire afternoon to put the words on the page, I can’t remember any of what I’d thought of earlier. Well, I remember the separate images–floods, bombs, and cages–but not how I put words to them.

I love collage, and it feels as if I came up with the collage, arranged everything on the paper, and then while I went to get the glue, a breeze came along and scattered everything. Where did this piece go?

Well, many thoughts were for the children swept away by the floods here in Texas. I keep thinking about the terror of a river dragging you down and striking you with its debris. The stories are heartbreaking. They always are. Then I thought about other children in this country and around the world who experience their own terror and loss, being dragged down and struck but forces they cannot control. And I try to wrap my head around it, the unfairness of it and the cause. And I realize, of course, that oftentimes, the adults are the river.

To everyone grieving, these are hard days. May you find love and comfort and support. May there be someone in the wreckage, waiting.

Thanks for reading.

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