The devastation is unreal.

I watch television each night and I should be viewing footage of a third world country. But, I'm not. It's America. The land of the free and the home of the brave.

I don't see any free or brave. I see desperate people. I see pain, I see death. I cry.

We are too good for this kind of suffering. That is the thought that goes through my head. But, we're not. We are no different than any other country that goes through suffering and destruction.

But wait, we are different. There are people like me in America. People who are able - both financially and physically - to help. I can send relief to these people. The elderly, the children. I have more than enough to take care of my family and help those who need it so much more than me.

I want to go down there and gather up a car full of people. I want to bring them back to my house and feed them, clothe them, let them know that they will be okay. They can go on. They are cared for. But, I'm told I shouldn't. We need money the organizations say. That's not enough for me. It's easy to give money and feel that I've made a difference.

Not this time. I don't want to help from afar. I don't want to be one of the well-off feeling satisfied with myself that I sent a check to help. This time, that won't be enough. I want to give of myself. In anyway I can. I don't want to sit in my living room watching the poor souls who are abandoned in the destroyed cities and cry.

I want to get out there and bring them love.