I have, sitting next to me on the table, my passport.

I must admit my utter relief that it was actually mailed on Friday...because...because it came from New Orleans. I knew that it was coming from there. I also knew with the dire warnings abounding that if it was not mailed on Friday, it most likely would not have been mailed for weeks or months. For even if the passport worked on a digital system, the photos and my birth certificate were mailed to that location, were physically located there.

How small I feel that I am utterly thankful for this package that left that devastated city before the storm. I have gained so little compared to what people have lost.

I sat at my desk, in prayerful thankfulness, for the hands that finished my application ahead of the storm. Who knows where those people are. Their homes are most likely destroyed. Their jobs lost or delayed. Their lives profoundly and fundamentally altered.

I am sitting here, logged on to work and watching the news.

What I find unbelievable, above and beyond the images, is the talk of rebuilding New Orleans. Why? Why actually rebuild a city below sea level? How could anyone who is looking at the devastation think of rebuilding there?

What I find incredibly sad is the looters. What place must a person find himself/herself in to blatantly steal at such a time? Not water or food. Not clothing or survival gear. Toys. Electronic equipment. Jewelry.

What a sobering reality of the human race.