Death, and musings

Last week, a 7.0-strength earthquake hit Haiti. The images of death, destruction and chaos overwhelmed me. As I saw bodies being bulldozed and dumped into 'dump' trucks, I imagined the stench not only of decay but of what seemed to me a horribly anonymous, tragically practical end to thousands upon thousands of people. Living, breathing, soul-body-spirit people.

One day, I watched the news on Haiti while I was working out at the gym. I started crying and I had to turn the channel to give my heart and brain a break. The people in Haiti don't have the luxury of turning the channel.

Then I got an email from a dear friend, who had written to tell me and a few others that her father had passed away suddenly while their family was on a ski trip. A healthy, middle-aged man, a devoted husband and father, collapsed at the top of a ski hill and was instantly gone. His youngest two children are 15 and 11. I cried for my friend, for her family and for the injustice of it all. She has a deep peace which she doesn't understand; she wrote: "It is well with my soul."

Two nights ago, my little (er, younger) sister attempted to make popcorn on the stove. It turned into a very scary, fiery situation in which she should have been terribly burned (as well as the entire house), or worse. Miraculously, she was fine (and so was the house).

All of this got me thinking, "Death is crouching at the door." Wait, that is not the right quote; it's actually "Sin is crouching at the door." Next thought: "Are death and sin so very different?" In some ways they are so intertwined it seems impossible to unwind them; you cannot have sin without death--and there is no death where there is no sin. But they are distinct (more on that at another time), very distinct.

Now, since I've given the title disclaimer of 'musings,' I will continue on that stream and not try to resolve the tensions inherent in said musings. Why are believers given a new spirit but not a new body at the same time? Why, if we have been saved from sin and eternal death, are we not saved from its consequence(s), namely, physical death? What is the point of doing everything in our power to stave off death, when it is far better to go and be with the Lord? (Just think of all we do to prevent it--and the millions of dollars we spend in our 'prevention'! As if we have control.) What if nothing eternal ever comes of my life? What if my physical life ends today and nothing came of it? I know there are problems in these questions, but they are the ones that have come up over the past week and a half.

The results of my musings? Not much except some fear and apathy.

Thankfully, I had an intervention, courtesy of a new (and already cherished) friend last night. She asked me things like, "Elizabeth, what is your greatest fear?" And "How are you going to be stretched through this?" And "Have you ever had a friendship drought before?" Ouch.

But it snapped me out of it. Fear and apathy? What?? This too have I been saved from, eternally and right now. Anytime my musings take me down those two parallel roads, I deny the living power of the only One who can defeat (and has defeated!) Death. I have no answers for the survivors of Haiti's earthquake. I have no answers for my friend about her father. I have no ability to communicate 'answers' to anyone personally touched by Death. But now, perhaps instead of answers, I can give hope and with hope, immense compassion.

Perhaps, instead of anger, blame, and fear, I can be like a Haitian woman who survived the quake. When her orphaned toddler nephew was rescued from the rubble, she said "It must have been God who did this." Indeed, sister. Indeed.