Just got back from Japan and my head is still spinning from everything that happened, both inside of me and outside.
Let me tell you about Rikuzen Takata, one of the worst hit areas, and try to help you see my heart....
Imagine looking around you and the land is flat, except for piles and piles of rubbish, some stacked 20 feet high or more, and huge rows of cars that have been smashed in every way possible; there's piles of metal, even piles of car tires. It's not just a picture you're looking at in front of you--it's the same way 360 degrees around you--all just piles of junk. Those piles used to be a beautiful, thriving city, but you can't imagine it, because all you can see is trash. Now you look where a city once was and the only buildings left are a school building and a hospital, both destroyed up to the fourth floors, but still standing.
If you go look along the coast there's one green tree standing there--but if you look down the coast you'll see thousands of tree stumps and one other dead tree. There used to be 70,000 pine trees there. 70,000 trees that were put there to act as a buffer against tsunamis.... Only 1 tree is left.
Can you even imagine it?? I still have trouble believing it..
Now imagine going there to help. haha! What can one person do? You look around you and realize that it will take years and years to rebuild what once was there. You feel helpless, you feel like there's no point, you just want to go back home because all your efforts there will not help accomplish anything. The people are mostly all gone, either dead or staying at evacuation centers, or moved in with family in other parts of Japan. It's just the trash, and the workers, and the stink in the air.
Then imagine you get your job assignment: water the flowers.
WHAT?! There is so much to do, to clean, to sort out, and you are asked to water a struggling patch of sunflowers. But step back. Look around. How much life is out there? Not much. But there are these flowers; struggling to survive in an area so dead. Just like the people are struggling to make sense of it all, these flowers are struggling to grow.
Now imagine you are doing this tiny, meaningless (in terms of rebuilding) job and an elderly couple walks up to you. They begin to bow and say "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Over and over. Then they tell you they used to live just a few houses down from where the new garden is. A house that they had lived in for almost all their life. It's gone. Nothing is left. Nothing-- but there are the flowers. And they see you working and they can say "Thank you".
What can you say in response to that? What can you do?! It just blows your mind! And all you want to do is everything you can!! But you can't do anything because the only tools you have are tools for flowering gardens. You can't comprehend their strength, and you admire their courage, and you're shocked by their humility to walk the road they used to live on, see the destruction, and still say "Thank you" to people they've never met doing something that won't physically help them at all. It breaks your heart.
But you keep working. You work because that is all you can do. You work because you want to give the elderly couple some hope. You want to let them know that--
Hey! I care. I can't comprehend how you must be feeling, but I am praying for you and I will help in what little ways I can. And not only do I care, but Jesus cares too, and He loves you more than I ever will be able to and more than you or I can understand.
Because sometimes, looking at the rubble, the trash, the destruction-- I can't understand. But I believe. I trust. Because when I look up from the wasteland, I see the mountains, covered with green trees, rising higher than any buildings man can make, more beautiful than anything man could design, and I remember my God is beautiful and powerful. I know He loves the Japanese, and I am confident that good will come out of this. That flowers will grow out of rubble. That hope will bloom out of a land flattened with despair.
I went and did what I could. Physically, I can't do anything from here for Japan. But I believe God can, and God will. So if you've managed to read this to the end, don't just yawn and click back to your home page. Pray with me. Pray that God will continue to work in Japan. Pray that the flowers will flourish, pray that the one tree will stay standing. But most importantly, pray that the Japanese people find hope in Jesus Christ, because He is the only one who makes beautiful things grow where it feels and looks like nothing can.
