I’ve felt too overwhelmed to even begin telling the story of what’s happened in the last three weeks, but I know that The Lord can and will use each of our stories to encourage others and to glorify Himself. So I’ve decided to just begin writing one small piece at a time. This is today’s portion, and I will continue as The Lord leads me each day. I love each and every one of you so much and I could never possibly even begin to tell you how much your support means to me.
Grant and I were sitting on a terrace, on a pile of rocks under a tree when the quake hit. I’d been the one who slept through every single aftershock, but it turns out that when you’re in a 7.3 earthquake you don’t have to think very hard to know what’s happening. The terrace we were on didn’t act like it was connected to the mountain. It bucked back and forth under us and I took a few seconds to assess the rocks under us and watch a nearby wall crack and begin to crumble before I decided to move. When I had made it up the stairs the ground stopped moving and the quake completely left my mind. The only things I saw now were the panicked children in front of me, clinging to each other and crying, eyes wide with terror.
In that moment, all I wanted was to be the real, live, physical Jesus. Being me felt so utterly useless. All these years drawing closer to Jesus and praying to become more like Him, but suddenly it wasn’t enough. Jesus, please just let me be You right now. I have not become enough like you, please forgive me, and please use me now.
I put my arms around those girls and told them again and again that it was ok, that they were safe still, that it was over for now, but I knew I could never know the horrors that they had already lived through just weeks before. All their fears and pain we’re rushing back over them all at once. The girl closest to me was hyperventilating, and I was thankful for the calm mind The Lord had given me in this moment. So that I could hold her. So that she might catch a glimpse of Jesus in this moment. “God is good, Jesus loves you, Jesus is taking care of you” is all I could think, pray and tell these girls. As we stood there together, the sound of the people in the village down far below us began to register in my ears. Screaming. Distant screaming and wailing coming from hundreds of people. My Nepali friend had her arms wrapped around her legs and was rocking back and forth. “I think some people must have died, because they are crying” she said. Her thoughts had of course already entered in my mind. The Nepali people panic loudly. This much I had learned. But it was probably real this time. People could easily have died just seconds ago…there was still dust in the air from the buildings that had collapsed. “Lord, please let them all have been outside when it hit.”
ALL I want lately is to hurt with the people who are hurting. If there is pain, why should I be exempt? If I sit with you through your worst nightmares, will you not perhaps catch a glimpse of Christ? EVERY soul is worth that. If all I get to do is plant the tiniest seed, which The Lord will water over time, THAT is worth everything. Worth anything.
