Before the Oil Arrives

As I sit here and write, the sky outside is a dark grey and the air has the undertone of oil. The smell is a constant reminder of the current situation, even if the coast is out of sight. The atmosphere is calm, but everywhere you look, life is bracing for the inevitable. It is sobering. Knowing the gulf now harbors countless dead animals and fish. Knowing there are so many who starting as early as tomorrow, will not have jobs. The sky says it all. Our view is rather grey. We groan with creation feeling once again the agony of a world not yet redeemed (Rom. 8:18-25).

Just this past week, we traveled to Pensacola, FL and spent a couple of days on the beach. The sand and surf was as beautiful as my best memory of the coast. I have always loved the ocean. There is nothing like seeing the moon rest low against the backdrop of a calm sea and glisten atop the waves. As a little girl, the sound of the waves calmed my soul and lulled me to rest. With two boys to keep up with, I am not sure the waves had the same effect this trip. We had a blast, though.

We weren't completely conscious of the privilege we had been given at the time. It was only in the last day or so that the reality of the disaster has taken affect. But for two days, we collected shells, played in the turquoise waves, and built castles on the white sand. In a week, we probably won't even be able to recognize the same area.

A recent post by Russell Moore speaks clearly about our response to this disaster as believers in the One True and Living God. You can read that here.