I got a phone call from my dear friend at seven this morning. We were getting ready for school and I hadn't turned on the radio.
Her son is in Kona, Hawaii, and was being evacuated to higher ground in anticipation of the tsunami.
I ran upstairs to look at the news on the internet. Saw waves of debris wash over farmlands in Japan. The debris looked kind of like the leaves and detritus washed around the ditches here in our little flood. But if you zoomed in, you could tell this detritus was cars and houses flipped over boats and other things that were indication that life just came to a screeching halt for thousands of people. I haven't been listening to the radio or watching newscasts all day because too much exposure to bad news isn't very good for me. But my mom told me that a train was washed away and noone even knows who was on it.
My acquaintances in Japan are fine. Our dear one on Kona is fine. The tsunami was less violent that it could have been.
But as the wind roars here and I watch the sheep run into the barn for the evening, and I work on sorting clothes and sweeping up little girls' rooms, I can't help but think of those people whose life was just altered. Their homes gone. Their cars gone. What would I do if my vehicles just washed away, along with the vehicles of all my neighbors and friends? What would I do if one of my family members was missing? What would I do if my place of work just disappeared into a pile of rubble?
I suppose I would cry out. Wail. I would pray to God for mercy. And so tonight, feeling a bit sobered by the harshness of our earth, the brutal reality of shifting plates and ocean waves, I pray for mercy for those people I don't know. And pray that a merciful God would sow seeds of hope into a desperate situation. And comfort for those who are in desperate need. I hope God would show each one of us if we have something to give or to share that would help in the reconstruction of those valuable lives that have been turned upside down.