. . . how do we process what we’ve seen?
While I was attacking the mud today 4 Junior High girls walked down the street. They too were looking for people to help (theoretically: I must admit, it looked a lot like 4 girls walking down the street having a good time). They spotted me, stopped in their tracks, and yelled “Gaijin!” (Foreigner! - not very PC, but, you get used to it).
This was a window of opportunity. I addressed them in English, and they just couldn’t resist coming closer for a look. The upshot was that, 2 minutes later they were washing down the parking lot. They worked very happily, asking how to say this and that in English. They seemed very carefree and lighthearted. We sat down to take a break, and I asked, “How are you doing? Are your houses okay?
The boldest, most talkative one piped up; ”Nope, my house is gone. I’m in a shelter.”
The other one decided to try English; ”My car - go river.”
Another added, “We don’t know where our car is”.
“Some of our classmates lost their parents.” One said, calmly.
Another added, “Yeah, and there was that school where the parents all went in the car to get their kids, got in a traffic jam, and died when the ripple came.”
“Did you hear the story of the boy in Omoto who went into town as soon as class was over to get chocolate for his girlfriend, and got caught in the ripple?” (They were calling the tsunami a rippuru, Japanese pronunciation for ripple.)
I was getting a bit uncomfortable. It was as though they were talking about something they saw on TV, not something that had devastated their town 2 weeks before. These were 13 and 14 year old girls. The break ended, and they went back to work, chattering and joking as before. Iwate people are famous for their stoicism, but I think this must be something else.
Armin Messer, our colleague from Kanagi (Aomori) came with Martin today. Ms. Kumagai had taken him around the neighborhood looking for people to help. He trucked mud out of a nearby English Language School, and came back “dirty as a pig and happy as a skunk”. He grabbed the hose and started washing his shovels and wheelbarrow. It was then I had the revelation.
Maybe the stress is getting to me. I hate mud.
“ARMIN. DONT WASH YOUR DIRTY WHEELBARROW ON OUR CLEAN STREET.”
Not surprisingly, Armin was surprised. Compared to the mess he had been wading through, the bit he had dumped on my antiseptic asphalt was inconsequential. I didn’t see it that way.
But, hey. Work all day in a mess so bad there is no place to sit down, no place to set anything; a mess that leaps gaps and gets on anything clean; a mess that grinds into your hands so your fresh washed ones look like the dirtiest hands most people ever get. ...
PRAY: That we will exhibit the grace of Christ even when stressed and fatigued.
And how do we process what we’ve seen?
While I was attacking the mud today 4 Junior High girls walked down the street. They too were looking for people to help (theoretically: I must admit, it looked a lot like 4 girls walking down the street having a good time). They spotted me, stopped in their tracks, and yelled “Gaijin!” (Foreigner! - not very PC, but, you get used to it).
This was a window of opportunity. I addressed them in English, and they just couldn’t resist coming closer for a look. The upshot was that, 2 minutes later they were washing down the parking lot. They worked very happily, asking how to say this and that in English. They seemed very carefree and lighthearted. We sat down to take a break, and I asked, “How are you doing? Are your houses okay?
The boldest, most talkative one piped up; ”Nope, my house is gone. I’m in a shelter.”
The other one decided to try English; ”My car - go river.”
Another added, “We don’t know where our car is”.
“Some of our classmates lost their parents.” One said, calmly.
Another added, “Yeah, and there was that school where the parents all went in the car to get their kids, got in a traffic jam, and died when the ripple came.”
“Did you hear the story of the boy in Omoto who went into town as soon as class was over to get chocolate for his girlfriend, and got caught in the ripple?” (They were calling the tsunami a rippuru, Japanese pronunciation for ripple.)
I was getting a bit uncomfortable. It was as though they were talking about something they saw on TV, not something that had devastated their town 2 weeks before. These were 13 and 14 year old girls. The break ended, and they went back to work, chattering and joking as before. Iwate people are famous for their stoicism, but I think this must be something else.
PRAY: That we will know how to speak Christ into a situation where we feel so often feel out of our depth!
Look down the street. Mud. Today, the sun was out. The temperature is up. The ground is drying. And, the mud is taking to the air on the strong spring winds- powdered mud, sifting down to cover everything you just washed. This is life on the beautiful Iwate coast.
What are we doing here? It is just a drop in the bucket. But, enough drops will fill the biggest bucket.
What are you doing? Praying? Giving? Doing your job in difficult circumstances? You are not here, but you are here. We are all drops in this bucket, if we are doing our part to get this place back on its feet.
Look out, mud. Here come God’s drops.
John Elliot
