Interruptus

I’m quickly interrupting the many things that are keeping our family hopping this week to write a brief post and let you know that I’m alive, I have not suddenly given up the internet for Lent (haha! yeah right), and I will be back, if not tomorrow, Friday at the latest and regularly thereafter.

I’ll let you know all about the impromptu magic going on out here in the desert tomorrow. Today, in case any of you are as hysterical as I am (although Darwin promises me that there’s nothing to fear), rest assured that we are keeping a close eye on the situation in Japan and are prepared to flee if the radiation seems to be making its unholy way across the Pacific. Although it now seems that there is nothing to stop a complete meltdown at the Fukushima plant (and in spite of the many articles I’ve read about all things nuclear in the past three days, I assure you that I do not know what that means), it seems that the radiation will dissipate before it makes it’s way over here. I hope so. We’ve got friends much closer to the coast than we are (we’re about four hours out), and for everyone’s sake I hope that yet another shoe doesn’t drop.

In the meantime, I’m praying for the people of Japan. I feel helpless. I cried the other night, thinking of how terrified they must have been, all those thousands who were lost at sea. How terrified they must still be, facing threats of radiation, a crumbling economy, and a world which seems to think Japan can pick itself up just fine. I’m proud of our soldiers who are helping, who are facing radiation themselves to bring some small measure of relief to those in the midst of what must surely feel like hell on earth.

And I’m holding my children closer at night, treasuring each smile a little more and thinking about just how apt this season of Lent is. To dust we shall return, indeed. I find my prayer to be increasingly shifting. I no longer pray for more money, a steady job, a real house with a back yard.

I spend these days praying for just one more day. Just a little longer to hold onto these little hands, to learn to love them better, to live this wonderful life that I’ve been given in the best possible way. Anymore, that’s the only thing I truly want…just what I have.