by Jeanette O'Hagan
I spent much of today sweeping water off our back patio, building impromptu ersatz-sandbags (of sorts) to channel the water away from our backdoor, moving my precious book stock away from the water leaking into my bedroom and finding towels and containers to catch the leaks. Another slab of my day consisted of scrolling through Facebook posts from friends and family with images of flooded houses, flooded yards, flooded roads, raging rivers and creeks and waterfalls, destroyed ferry terminals or checking up on family and friends as well as keeping up with the latest news of the tragedy unfolding in the Ukraine and the latest Covid updates.
It seemed surreal seeing posts from friends who don't live in the rain-drenched areas of southeast Queensland or northern New South Wales (or war-torn Ukraine) where life proceeded as normal.
Even so, the last couple of years feel like an B-grade Apocalyptic movie in which the director couldn't decide which disaster to go with - drought, bushfires, global pandemic, tornados, mouse plagues, earthquakes, tsunami, flood, war, climate change - so threw them all into one crazy mix. So far, it seems an asteroid strike and alien attack may have been overlooked- and, no, that is not a scheduling suggestion or a request before anyone gets even more crazy ideas.
Not that other eras haven't experienced similar craziness (the first half of the twentieth century, the years of the medieval eras of bubonic plaque, wars, famine and fire) but we've grown to expect peace and prosperity with maybe the occasional hiccough. The last couple years have turned that expectation upside down.
And in the midst of all that, I begin to wonder what significance do my stories have in a world that seems to be teetering on the brink.
A few days ago, I pummelled my brain for something to say in this post. Something new and fresh. Something relevant and inspiring.The God of Abraham, Moses and Jesus is not indifferent or removed from our plight. He listens to those who turn to him for help and helps at times subtly and, at other times, in astounding ways. More than this, he works in the middle of disastrous situations and redeems them for good as he did with the death of Jesus, God-Son, on the cross. If we give him our selves, he takes all the elements of our life and like a master weaver expertly combines the light and dark threads to make a glorious tapestry (though his design will not be completely understood until the pattern is finished). Nor does he remain aloof to human suffering and pain. Rather, he enters into our pain, walks with us and carries us through the angst and anguish. This is seem most supremely in the incarnation, when the Son (eternal God) genuinely entered the human condition by becoming a human being, living a life of goodness and controversy and willingly enduring one of the most painful and humiliating deaths ever invented so that we might be restored to a relationship with the triune God.
The Christian answer to natural disaster and human suffering is not without its tensions and its imponderables. There have been times in my life even in recent times when it has been sorely put to the test. Yet it has sustained me and continues to sustain and steer me through pain and anguish. It provides both comforts and challenges, gives serenity and stimulus to act. Life is not without meaning or responsibility, nor is it fatalistic. And by no means is it just about me and my spiritual fulfilment. Rather it is an adventure, in which we partner with God to make a difference, to act compassionately and to live boldly.
Jesus challenges us to build our lives on the bedrock of faith – in God’s goodness and love and his plan of restoration of a fractured world through the life, death and resurrection of his Son. He says, “I’ll show what it’s like when someone comes to me, hears my words, and puts them into practice. It’s like a person building a house by digging deep and laying the foundation on bedrock. When the flood came, the rising water smashed against that house, but the water couldn’t shake the house because it was well built.” Luke 6:47-48 CEB
No matter what the force of the wind and waves, no matter how hot the fire, not even death itself is a match for the Creator of more than a hundred billion galaxies, of the vastness of space and of time itself. (You can read the much longer blogpost Building on Bedrock here.)
As I read these words, words I wrote just over ten years ago, reflecting on another crisis, they ring just as true today.
And even as I write, silence has fallen (apart from the drip, drip of my leaking room). First for a few minutes, every so often, the constant percussion of water on roofs and gutters and pavements and plants, the chatter of water flowing and the swish of car tyres on wet roads ceases to be the constant unceasing backdrop to my days and hours. And each small break has grown longer, has grown more frequent and now even a cleansing wind sings and whistles in the rain-free night. Who knows what the morning will bring - but we can be sure that our God will still be with us.
She has published over forty stories and poems, including the Under the Mountain Series (5 books), Ruhanna's Flight and Other Stories, Akrad's Children and Rasel's Song, the first two books in the Akrad's Legacy series.
Jeanette has practised medicine, studied communication, history, theology and a Master of Arts (Writing). She loves reading, painting, travel, catching up for coffee with friends, pondering the meaning of life.
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