EarthquakeS

“This is it, guys!” the woman sitting next to me yelled.  Everyone got up and started moving out the door, quickly yet orderly.  There were rattling windows, trembling under our feet, squeaking and swaying stairs, and children crying.

We were on the second floor of a two-story building on the hotel grounds in Pokhara.  Each year our in-country organization hosts a gathering of all the non-Nepali workers throughout Nepal.  Up to that point, we had heard talks on how big God is, that He cares for us when we are struggling, and that we can’t always expect an answer from Him on why something is happening but we can always expect an encounter with Him.

These points rung very true for me having learned them through my experiences of the previous year.  I felt easily abandoned and unloved during the prolonged lack of sleep and the many challenges of starting to work as a new physician overseas.  I kept asking God, “Why?” Through reading many wonderful books and talking with friends, I was just starting to believe that God really does love me within these struggles.  Yes, He is a big God, but that doesn’t mean that challenges won’t arise just because I declare my love for Him.  And although I won’t always understand why He does something, I’m not in a position to demand those answers: He is God, and I am not. But I can choose to allow challenges to draw me closer to Him, to ignore Satan’s lies, to desire to know God more.

These were the things we were talking about when Nepal’s biggest earthquake in 80 years hit us.  Strangely, we did not realize how big the quake was until much later after listening to the news.  Yes, it felt stronger and lasted a lot longer than any earthquake any of us had previously experienced, but the damage where we were was minimal.  And after using the satellite phone and cell phones when able, our leaders were able to contact all of our Nepali counterparts, who were all okay.  The enormity of this complete protection from God was not recognized until we started hearing of the severity of devastation elsewhere. 

In fact, I left Tim and Jack asleep in the hotel room while I went out to lunch next to the lake with a couple of girlfriends.  We sat on a balcony, which shook occasionally with aftershocks (sorry, mom and grandma), but we enjoyed good conversation about other things in life.  When one of the shopkeepers told us that the Kathmandu Durbar Square had been flattened, my response was, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Sure enough, I saw it the next day on the news.

Yet the destruction was much less than predicted.  When we moved to Nepal, we met with UMN’s security advisor, who spent quite a bit of time informing us that Nepal was due for a big earthquake.  History shows that a big earthquake hits here every 60-70 years, and the most recent big one was 80 years prior.  100,000 deaths and complete flattening of the Kathmandu valley were expected.  Being a fatalistic Hindu culture, very little was being done to prepare for such an earthquake.  New buildings have been appearing everywhere, but even I could see that they were not being built to withstand an earthquake up to 8.0 magnitude as is done in the US.  Hmmm.  I didn’t leave that meeting feeling very peaceful. 

But the earthquake arrived on a Saturday, the country’s only day of rest, which meant many fewer people than usual were in their workplaces or in schools.  It also arrived after eating time—usually between 10 and 11 am—which meant people had left their homes and were working in their fields.  The very worst shaking did not occur inside of the Kathmandu valley, sparing it from complete destruction.  And of course, selfishly, we and all our colleagues were spared our lives.  For these things we are eternally grateful!

Still there are nearly 8,000 people dead (and counting) and over 14,000 people injured.  2.8 million people have been displaced.  4.2 million people (that’s more than the number of people living in Los Angeles!) have been impacted in some way: loss of loved ones, homes, livestock.  For these people, I imagine it is hard for them to feel grateful.  I hurt for them, as do so many others.  It is in these times that I wish they could know the One True God.  Their millions of gods have loving and evil sides, are like very emotional humans who don’t hesitate to strike out in anger or retaliation when someone on this earth does something wrong.  If only they could know the unconditional and never-ending love of God.  Although bad things happen, He always wants to restore and comfort and bring peace.

I think of the many Nepalis who were not with their loved ones when the quakes hit.  So many families are split apart due to trying to find work that pays more so that the children can have better lives.  Young husbands work in India, Malaysia, Qatar, Saudi Arabia.  Or even those families who were just in different parts of the field.  I was only apart from Tim and Jack for a few minutes before I could see that they were okay, but to be alone and not have cell phone service, wondering if your spouse or parents or children are okay is terrifying and gut-wrenching.  To not have complete closure if someone has been lost but not found is haunting. 

There are also those who live in very remote, isolated places with “roads” that only feet can travel over a few days, roads that were then destroyed by the earthquake.  Some of these people have sat with an injured loved one, knowing that it is impossible to leave to get help but not knowing if someone is coming to them to provide critical help.  To sit and watch a loved one die in this type of situation is unimaginable.  Or to have loved ones survive only to have lost all livestock and fields and housing and wonder how to feed the children and keep them warm in the rain when no one has arrived two weeks after the first earthquake: such intense suffering!

But God sees all of this, and the pain He feels in His heart for these suffering is so much greater than I can even imagine feeling.  He cares.  He hopes that all of these people may come to know Him.  We must pray diligently that, just as Jesus did, the physical needs of these people will be met but that their spiritual needs will also be addressed.  God can do it.  He asks us to help.  I, like you, am not in the trenches, traveling by helicopter or by foot to reach them.  I am at home with a sick husband, praying for God’s presence to go with those who are able to go to those in need.  It has been 2 ½ weeks since the first earthquake, but please do not stop praying.  The recovery process is likely to last at least 5 years.  The impact on those 4.2 million lives will last their lifetimes.  Thank God for being more merciful than predicted, but petition Him to use this catastrophe for His glory.

Literally as I finished typing this, another large earthquake hit.  We were far from the epicenter, but it was enough to make me wake Jack up—it takes a LOT to make me do that—and yell for our didi and Tim to run outside with me.  My hands were shaking and other children in the building were crying with fear out of having to experience another earthquake.  We have felt very few aftershocks since the first earthquake, but other areas are feeling them daily or even twice daily.  What they feel with the smaller aftershocks is probably similar to what we felt with this larger one since we are farther away.  I can understand why no one wants to be inside when buildings have collapsed all around them and those still standing have cracks.  Knowing the impact of the first quake and not knowing what is coming is disconcerting to say the least.  To not have confidence in what happens after death and to not have the security that your god loves you only worsens the situation.  Please pray for the fear that has enveloped this country.  Our God does not create this fear, but He sure can use it to His advantage.

My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness veils his lovely face,
I rest on his unchanging grace;
in every high and stormy gale,
my anchor holds within the veil.

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

 His oath, his covenant, his blood
support me in the whelming flood;
when all around my soul gives way,
he then is all my hope and stay. [Refrain]

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

When he shall come with trumpet sound,
O may I then in him be found,
dressed in his righteousness alone,
faultless to stand before the throne. 

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.