Watching the news yesterday, I saw a state official in Florida standing and talking in the middle of utter destruction–his voice cracking with emotion.
He was talking about how so many of his fellow Floridians who had everything they ever wanted have been robbed and rendered penniless by Hurricane Michael.
“They had homes and cars and boats,” he said. “They had no flood insurance and the places where they made their livings have been destroyed. Even the places where they kept their money and savings are gone.
“They’re never going to recover from this. They’re going to be sleeping under bridges.”
What an arresting word picture of the untold numbers of Americans who’ve been dropped like stones into the Valley of Poordom.
What a stark reminder that so many untold millions of the poor and homeless in America are not lazy bums or moochers.

I always have prayer candles around the house, but keeping a special one for the victims of Hurricane Michael, who’ve been abruptly dropped into Poordom, temporarily or perhaps permanently.
I have intentionally chosen a lifestyle based on the value of simplicity. I have a humble house with all the creature comforts I need, complete with a wide-screen TV and a good fridge and oven and a lot of books and a beautiful big mahogany desk my Belizean landlord and dear friend gave me for my office for as long as I want it.
I am writing this on the sort of wonder that only a free-market system that rewards incentive could produce: a MacPro Apple computer–what may be the most valuable tool-and-toy I own. Probably the one possession I would hate to lose the most.
Not counting, of course, certain family mementoes and certain Bibles and sentimental valuables that money can never replace.
Many of those victims of the storm are torn up today by the divisions within their very souls. By turns, they are angry even at God (and perhaps feeling needlessly guilty for anger at God) and thankful to God for being alive and for the opportunity of hope.
Like every other American, I am extremely sad, as we all have to be, over all the loss of lives and the ways of life lost in Florida, Georgia and other states.
The special candle I have flaming every minute that I’m home is also to remind me to be grateful to a God for all the many blessings I take for granted every day.
Lord in your mercy, hear it all: our confusion, our tears, our anger, our pain, our suffering, our gratitude.
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