In light of the earthquake in Christchurch and it’s surrounds on Tuesday, I’ve had a lot of conversations with people asking “Why, God?”
And I’ve noticed that I don’t struggle with “Why?” I understand why. God promised it would happen. It is unspeakably unfair that it’s the second big earthquake for them in such a short time, but God must have a reason. I trust Him to know what He’s doing, so I don’t ask Him why.
What I do struggle with is “Why not me?” Why Christchurch twice, when it hasn’t happened to me once? I don’t struggle to understand the suffering of others, I struggle to understand my own good fortune. Why isn’t pain spread out evenly amongst us all? Why don’t I suffer?
So now I’m just waiting. Because surely it must be coming soon. My life, my good fortune, is so fragile. On Monday, the people of Christchurch and it’s surrounds were still saying “Wow, we are so fortunate that no one died in that 7.1 magnitude earthquake in September, now we can get back on our feet and start to recover.” So many reports have people saying “We thought we were safe.” That’s the thing that freaks me out so much, we just don’t know.
I find myself looking around to figure out what I’m going to do if there’s an earthquake. I’m nervous about going to Melbourne with my friends in March now, because my husband won’t be there and something might happen while we’re apart. I dream more than usual about being bombed, or rebel soldiers marching up my road, or some other aspect of war. I wonder what it will be that happens to me, and I hope it’s not too bad.
I can’t stop thinking about the friends and family of those who are still missing. When something like this happens, all you want is to be able to get hold of your loved ones and know they’re okay. There are people out there who have been waiting two days to hear that their loved ones are okay, and there’s the ever-increasing possibility that they aren’t. Not knowing must be beyond horrible. And then there are the people potentially still trapped under fallen buildings. I don’t really want to think about what they must be going through.
I can’t find a quote that really encapsulates this blog. It seems disrespectful to use a quote about ceasing to love, or the beauty that’s all around us, even though the people who wrote those quotes knew pain like no other. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s pain. So, for today, no quote.