Natural Disasters Aren’t Complete Disasters

 

A soldier holds a four-month-old baby who survived the tsunami with her family at Ishinomaki city in Miyagi prefecture on March 14, 2011. (Yomiuri Shimbun/AFP/Getty Images)

The earthquake in Japan has touched my heart and mind. I do have a friend in Japan who is all right (she updated her Facebook profile), and while I am sad about the loss of life and devastation, I am also glad that Japan is a first-world country with proper infrastructure that can help minimize damage in the face of shifting plates and waves rolling across the land. Haiti lacked all of these things including access to basic health care, which made the death toll in last year’s earthquake all the more worse for the impoverished country.

Natural disasters (or “acts of God”) are devastating. They result in loss of life, extensive property damage, and put people in harm’s way for the future (ie, Haiti: cholera; Japan: radiation exposure). But these same disasters that bring so calamity upon a people also bring a sense of community. People of an entire country band together like never before in recent memory to assist one another. Sure, there are looters—but these vagabonds are not the norm; they are the exception. People are digging their neighbors and coworkers out of rubble. They are grieving with people’s names they do not know upon discovering that their loved ones bodies have washed upon the shore. They are sharing food, transportation, and words with a form of compassion that may not have existed two weeks ago.

People around the world are touched by the frailty of human life when these tragedies strike, and the outpouring of love, money, and support is evidence of that.

Perhaps I’m exercising dispensational eschatology in believing that the United States is poised for its own great earthquake in the next 10 years. And I don’t fear California so much as I fear the “inactive” plate that’s sitting miles beneath the ground I live on. None of us are prepped or poised for that.

And I can only hope and pray that the world will be as good to us then as we have tried to be to them.

 

Day 19 of Enjoying God: Sovereignty

It is January 12 and all day I have been wanting to blog about Haiti. But the recent situation in Arizona weighs heavy on my heart as well.

I am not going to pontificate on why God allowed these tragedies to happen. (I was not too happy at this time last year.) But what I have learned in the past year since the Haiti earthquake and continue to keep in mind in light of the Arizona shooting is that God is sovereign—He is in control of all of these situations.

I don’t understand God’s mind, and I can’t explain why He didn’t prevent any of these things when, on many levels, it seems as if He could have kept them from happening. But as a believer in His son Jesus Christ, I will attempt to rest in the knowledge that the finite cannot ever fully understand the mind of the infinite and His ways are much greater than mine. A recurring theme in enjoying God right now is trust, and in all of these things, God is constantly asking me: Will you trust me? Will you trust that my judgment is in everyone’s best interest?

God challenges me and tells me in Jeremiah that He knows the plans He has for us, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give us a future and a hope. And then I wonder about the kind of future a dead 9-year-old has and the hope her parents have. Trust is not always easy.

It is during these times that I find myself a bit somber but also a bit more willing to give up control because I have no control over these situations. I have to rely on the fact that an omniscient, omnipotent God does. Otherwise the world goes to”hell in a hand basket” (as they say) and thinking that way gives me no comfort or peace at all.

Ashamed to be Haitian

I used to be ashamed to be of my Haitian descent for the longest time. In a lot of ways, I’m not fully over it.

What good have I ever had to say about the country my parents came from? The Haitian government receives aid, money, and supplies and simply squanders it. The Haitian Creole (Kreyol) language is not popular. Eighty percent of the Haitian people are poor. In fact, Haiti, which shares an island with the Dominican Republic, is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. My parents came from a third-world country. Once I learned that, I figured there was nothing to be proud of in that.

So many times I wished I was something else, something cool. Like, oh say, Hispanic. It’s cool to be Hispanic. Spanish is a useful language to know, especially in America.

Now, it’s suddenly cool to be Haitian. Haiti, devastated by a recent earthquake, is at the forefront of the world’s mind. Suddenly, this tiny, pathetic country is huge, taking up space on the airwaves, dominating news, and pressing upon people’s hearts. Blink-182 had their signature rabbit running with the Haitian flag on a T-shirt and Lady Gaga created a T-shirt with the word “Haiti” and Haitian flag colors dominating throughout. As I type this, “Hope For Haiti Now” is on TV with the biggest and brightest of superstars lending their support to raise funds for a country that has none. People who never gave a damn before give a damn now.

I can lift my head up a little higher when I speak to people about my heritage now. Everyone seems to want to connect with a Haitian. A country that no one cared about—a throwaway nation—is suddenly front and center. When I used to tell people that my parents were from Haiti, at times, I received baffled looks, sometimes accompanied with a “Where’s that?” Everyone had heard of Cuba; Haiti? Not so much.

When the earthquake first occurred and aid poured into Haiti, I initially got upset at everyone, including myself. “Oh NOW, suddenly you care about Haiti?” Haiti has never been okay, Haiti has never been doing fine, and no one cared to assist a country that was sorely in need. Now that hundreds of thousands of people have died, the world’s eyes have been opened.  The plight of the Haitian people has come before the world and moved it to compassion by giving generously to a country that may never be able to give back.

But 10 days later after the great 7.3-magnitude Haiti earthquake, I’m at a point where I can reassess and think, “Wow. People actually care. This shows the best of people. The world is moved to assist a country that it never cared about before or even knew existed.” And I must thank God. I’m not happy that so many people had to die for the world to notice Haiti. But I’m humbled by seeing the outpouring of love and support from other nations including one that I am a citizen of—the United States. I am humbled by seeing both old and young being pulled alive out of rubble days after they should have been dead. I know only a merciful God can sustain them.

The faith of the Haitian people has humbled me. To hear stories of Haitians singing “How Great Thou Art” in spite of death and decay humbles me. Yes, there is voodoo common throughout the country but Haitians are a people of faith—a people who believe in God. In fact, they refer to Him as “bon Dieu” (translated as “good God”) in almost everything. A common saying tacked on at the end of many plans is “si Dieu veux” (translated to “God willing”). Perhaps it’s superstitious and embedded in the culture but it’s there. A belief in God—not just any god but a good God—is pervasive. And it’s the faith that has carried many Haitians through, it’s the faith that has carried many buried people found alive, and it’s the faith that will help rebuild the country.

And that is something I can be proud of.

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Now playing: David Nevue – How Great Thou Art
via FoxyTunes