Remembering

Today was a glorious day in France, but I'll tell you more about that later. While the day was wonderful, there was constantly the remembrance of a day three years ago penetrating my thoughts. And so for now, I am remembering.

Beni Swa L'Eternal - written by Kathryn on this day and the two days that followed, three years ago.

The wind howled, the snow fell, the earth was silent and cold and lifeless, yet it was waiting for something. It was waiting for a bulb that was lying underneath the piles of snow, a sign of new life. 

The girl gazed out at the frozen land and the gathering clouds. The black shapes were menacingly close and they loomed forebodingly above her. Snow was falling, first in stray flakes, but soon a torrent of silent white swept down out of the sky to consume the earth. Her mind was similarly consumed by the events of the day - events that on any other day would be mundanely normal. But not today. Not today.

Things that under normal circumstances would have been insignificant now were full of meaning. The trip to Meijer that day led to nothing but feelings of guilt and confusion. The unending rows of food surrounded her and threatened to drown her. With an outstretched hand, I can have anything in this story, any material thing I could ever want or need. 

How can one describe the eyes of a starving child? The deep pools of innocence intricately and permanently blended with suffering.

And then to walk out of Meijer, deep in thought, and to see a bright orange cone draped in flashy yellow caution tape, warning customers to avoid the crack in the sidewalk. The girl spoke, her voice containing a bitter note of irony, "All that for one little crack in the sidewalk. All that for ONE LITTLE CRACK IN THE SIDEWALK."  There is a place right now in this world, with much more than a mere crack in the sidewalk, and there is no caution tape, no neatly positioned cones, no protection from the hazards on every street at every hour.

She drove home from Meijer, but had to stop as a funeral procession solemnly passed by. Car after car in a grim parade, scores of people going somewhere out of the respect they had for one person who no longer lives in this world. Even as this occasion transpired, just a couple thousand miles south, there was another kind of funeral. Instead of dedicating a whole procession to honor one person, there was one person working to dig a mass grave for the procession of the countless dead. Victims of poverty, victims of an earthquake - violent and massive and charged full of death, victims of a fallen world.

The screaming wind surrounded the house and felt as if it were entering in and tearing at her heart. Her breath formed circles of condensation on the window. Thoughts echoed ceaselessly through her mind. Why? Why that country, of all countries? After everything they've endured, why, God why? Why not let it hit California where they have the infrastructure, the medical personnel and rescue teams, the money to rebuild and continue on with life, why? I don't understand.

Why is a big word.

The snowstorm continued, gathering momentum and strength, the color of white was blinding and omnipresent. It was eight o'clock in the evening, and if the snow continued like this, then there would be no school the following day, yet the girl was not overjoyed as she would have been any other day. Her life had suddenly been thrown into perspective, and snow days no longer mattered. All that mattered was life itself. 

I am trapped, though not under a pile of rubble. I am caught in a trap of not knowing. I am in the midst of a storm. She traced her finger on the rim of the windowsill as thoughts continued to echo incessantly. 

Suffering is a big word.

Hundreds of miles away in the utterly devastated and demolished streets of a city, a voice cried out. A voice filled with pain. A scream filled the air; some was trapped, caught in this storm of life. 

Hopelessness is a big word.

The girl was completely incapable of doing anything to help. Useless. Inadequate. All she could do was sit and run her finger along the rim of the frozen windowsill and watch as the storm gathered strength. There was barely even any strength inside to petition God. A question remained in her mind, unanswered. The people to her, so dear that they were dear as family itself - a big sister, a big brother, and a little brother - living their lives in Port-au-Prince the day the earth shook.

Yet draw nearer, listen closer, watch carefully! In the streets of the city, a new voice arose. A voice that was a herald of hope. Beni Swa L'Eternel. Beni Swa L'Eternel. Over and over the refrain was sung. It grew strength and spread like a flame throughout the streets. Beni Swa L'Eternal. Blessed be the Lord.

The snow was not stopping. The storm would not cease. Yet draw nearer, listen closer, watch carefully! The girl has suddenly remembered that under all of that snow, there is life. Under all of that snow, a bulb patiently waits. We cannot see it, we cannot hear it, there is no sign of its existence, but we know that it is there. Waiting. And in time, the snow will melt and the bulb will bloom - a full and beautiful flower for all the world to behold. And there is not just one bulb, but there are many. A promise of new life even in the midst of death.

Another figure appeared in the doorway. Although she was weary, form stooped and exhausted, there was joy buried deep inside her eyes. The girl was by her side instantly, "You have any news?" she queried impatiently. 

"Yes. Yes, they are safe," whispered the mother, and without further words, held out an email to her daughter. 

The pair of eyes scanned the email, taking in every word. They are safe. The girl's question had been answered. The why was still not answered. The hopelessness was still overwhelming. The suffering would never end in this world. But they are safe - cradled safely in the palm of the Lord during those sixty seconds when the earth shook. 

The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away, and still we say, Beni Swa L'Eternel. 

Death is a big word, but Life is the biggest word of all. 

**********************

This was one of my written reactions to the Haiti Earthquake that hit on Tuesday, January 12, 2010 at 4:53 PM. I couldn't possibly attempt to wrap my mind around all the suffering, all the loss, all the horror of that day, and still cannot. But it impacted me in a very real way, and I will never forget the moment when I saw the news that a massive earthquake had hit the country of Haiti, or the days that followed.

This past week, a friend of mine and fellow volunteer posted these pictures from the fall that I hadn't seen yet. They speak of life. Of joy. Of the good and the beautiful and the wonderful. What an honor I was given this past fall to relish this life, to participate in this joy, to witness these miracles. To stand with the people of God, and lift up hands with them and say Beni Swa L'Eternel! Beni Swa L'Eternel!

In all the death, in all the suffering, in all the hopelessness, in all the unanswered questions of why, Life is the biggest word of all.