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One lone wall standing had "5." Five lives, five hearts, five souls. Where are you souls? Did you find your salvation? Was Katrina a savior or an everlasting hell for you? Can you see us as we mourn, we cry, we weep, we wail for your loss? Can you see us wanting to reach out to you in your last moments? Can you hear us calling to you as you scream for help? Can you feel our hands as we reach to pull you out of the tumultuous raging water?

Is it that I am to undergo a total transformation for myself? Is that I must experience this so that later in life I will be strong for the next storm that blows my way? I know this is it. I know that for me I must be willing to look at this destruction and allow it to affect me. How I choose for it to penetrate and what I choose to do with it will determine my future characteristics in any crisis. And so I learn.
I learn at how sad it would be if I had never faced your terror. How terrifying death would be had I not seen, not felt, not breathed the very essence of your stench. Would I do it all over again? Yes, I would do it again and again and again. I would confront the results of death and all that it has to offer. I would allow it to penetrate to the marrow for refuge for it has no place to rest but in my bones. It is my honor, my privilege, to wallow in your loss. I salute you with great reverence and beseech you to abide in my heart, a permanent dwelling place.
My heart is willing to take on such a great feat. I welcome the insurmountable pain that permeates my very essence, my spirit, my quintessence. I embrace the anguish that shows a fresh discernment. Oh, the perception you teach us if only we are willing to look into that perfect law of liberty. The resolutions we gain by giving ourselves over to the willingness to look into that loving mirror of death, of self.
Do we run to find the true meaning of life? Do we race willingly to open ourselves up to what might have been, to what could be? Are we willing to grab the finish line knowing that we have done all that we could to face the pain in order to give us the freedom to be comfortable within ourselves?
The fathom left in my heart and soul will take a lifetime to fill if God grants me that mercy. The vacant scar left on your dwelling place will be seared onto my heart. The loss of what once was will be as deep as the ocean which caused it.
And so I sing
"Hide me Oh, Thou Great Jehovah,
Lead me through this barren land."

Learn more about this author, Michele Clayton.
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