I’ve got Hurricane Katrina on my mind. And Little House on the Prairie. Stick with me here.

I’ve been wondering how we (Christians in particular) can be helping the victims of Hurricane Katrina, what precisely we can do to aid fellow Americans who have no homes, no longterm plans, no pantries and no linen closets. Sometimes I wonder at what my own life would look like had I been living in New Orleans last fall. I also wonder what could’ve been done had folks known what the worst case scenario would look like.

Let’s jump now to the days of Laura Ingalls Wilder. People who lived on the prairies back then had to prepare for harsh winters; they had to grow summer gardens, can all the goods, and hope for decent harvests from their farms. They, due to sheer geography, had to be a fairly self-reliant lot — and still, people starved to death. Babies couldn’t be fed, medicines couldn’t be found, hardships were faced head on.

All these thoughts lead me to wonder about the current pandemic flu discussions. Granted, my dad is in a position of authority in the state of Nebraska where matters like these are concerned. I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about the topic if he wasn’t my dad. So here you have it. The experts in our country and around the world are saying, Prepare yourselves, the odds are good that a pandemic flu is coming.

The good news is that you can prepare yourself. Like Ma lining up rows of canned tomatoes before the first snow, we can all read up on the avian flu, wash our hands more frequently, stay home from work when sick, stockpile emergency supplies in the basement, and so on. I don’t mean to be an alarmist, in fact I don’t like even thinking about a pandemic. Frankly, my immune system isn’t doing so hot on a *good* day, so I can’t imagine how my body would handle an unknown virus. Still, if I had known a hurricane was a’comin to my hometown well ahead of time, I probably would’ve made plans for the safety of my family. That’s all I’m sayin’… The alternative is to bury your head in the sand.

(Try as I may, I just can’t imagine Ma saying, “Winter schminter! Who needs to can? The neighbors two farms over will take care of us if the blizzards come.” Can you?)