When a hurricane is headed your way, how do you pray? Asking that it go somewhere other than your home feels so selfish -- that means it has to head toward someone else's home. It was hard for me to face the fact that Hurricane Ike was indeed chugging toward our coastal area, especially since I kept reliving the apocalyptic trauma of our Hurricane Rita evacuation three years ago. I finally decided to pray that the storm would simply lose intensity and spin itself down before it made landfall, preferably in the least developed spot possible. As devastating as Ike was, he could have been so much more deadly. While I'm thankful that Brazoria County was spared a direct hit, I'm sad to report that my friend Kelly's 1900 Galveston storm survivor did take on about a foot of water. Here's the way her house looked for our SRS Reunion a couple of months ago:

And here's how it looks post-Ike:

Our family evacuated to Austin on Thursday morning and spent three nights cooped up in a motel filled with fellow evacuees from the Texas Gulf coast. We did get to hang out with Tyler, our favorite Austinite, including an evening on the infamous Sixth Street. We confirmed once and for all that A) we do not belong on Sixth Street and B) we have no business trying to help "Keep Austin Weird!"With gasoline shortages and price increases looming, we hated to do much driving. We did take a short break from watching Saturday's storm coverage by cruising around town for a bit. Here I am hanging out of the car window, snapping random shots to entertain myself:

The dome of the state capitol building beckoned us in that direction, where we wandered around the grounds for a while and found lots of interesting details:

To our great surprise, we discovered that the doors to the building were open and we were allowed to go inside for the last few minutes before closing time. I immediately coerced Curtis and Maggie into an obligatory "just one quick photo, pleeeeeeease" sort of shot. Don't they look happy?

I suppose THIS is the sort of photo they would prefer that I take. (I have no idea what is going on here, by the way.)

Not completely finished embarrassing Maggie yet, I got this next shot by, you guessed it, lying on the floor of the rotunda. With other people standing around. Staring at me. Then I made Maggie help me up so that no one could doubt that she was with me. It was awesome!

Finally, here are three very different looks at the capitol dome. What a gorgeous building!

We returned home on Sunday to find our house still in one piece with only a few shingles blown off the roof and several smallish trees scattered around the yard. The electricity was off, but a cool front mercifully arrived just in the nick of time to keep us comfortable as we camped out in the front room with the windows open. Our power was restored Monday night, and Tuesday we got word that the water supply is safe to drink again. Best of all, La Casona is up and running again and we enjoyed every bite of our celebratory dinner.

Why have we been blessed to experience only minor inconveniences from this storm while others have lost everything? Why was the storm surge significantly less than feared but so many miles of coastland now lie in shambles? Why has loss of life been kept to a miraculous minimum in spite of such a large number of homes being swept away with hardly a trace?

Only God knows the answers to these questions and the many more being asked tonight. For me it is enough to believe that He does know all of the answers. Now I pray that all of those suffering tremendous hardship will know God's comfort and daily provision. May my hands and feet be used in whatever way needed to help bring that comfort and provision.