Announcing this home

This isn’t hell. It was more like heaven for me. It has a strong passion, it wells with anger and human spirit. Hell looks straight ahead and not to the left or right where people need your help. Fire and red everywhere is a funny picture of hell to me because it is so emotional. I think of hell more as things becoming normal that should be a complete shock and inhumanity. Go somewhere where it’s the norm for a man to say about his wife, don’t help her, she’s used to it or where a woman says about her husband, he’s never been able to, why would he now. That is more hell than a place of incessant suffering where the human spirit is pierced with offense at disregard for one another. There was some hell and some heaven in Slidell. I feel like I’ve had something pent up for awhile that I got to let go of going to help a person in need after the hurricane. “If we are the body why aren’t his hands reaching, why aren’t his lips teaching” was playing driving down the road. Some perfect moments. Building back up, seeing people doing things with their hands, seeing boys getting to play with bulldozers and girls getting a look of glory in their eyes taking a sledgehammer to a tile bathroom floor. Many people were angry, but there was little room for complacency. Complacent concrete hell. Or fiery passionate hell. All I want is to go back, to always be doing that. I pray God, soon that I will be doing good always.

“I know this room I’ve walked this floor”
“I’ll pirouette upon my grave”
“Nails don’t hold gods to trees, what makes you stay?”
“Redeemed how I love to proclaim it”
“as a smile ran away from his face”
“You and me we used to be together…I can’t believe this could be the end”
“It looks as though you’re letting go.” “Sing of your mercy that leads me through…”
“When death like a gypsy comes to steal…”
“Stop explaining don’t tell me cause it hurts.”
“let the eleventh hour quickly pass,”
my Jesus I love thee
my Jesus I love thee