Walking the Streets of Destruction

I have spent the last year hearing stories of the survivors of Typhoon Yolanda. They have talked about evacuating and returning to destroyed homes, staying in their homes and having it crumble around them, loss, pain, need.

A year of hearing about this devastating event and how they have struggled to recover has not hardened my heart to their pain.

Yolanda set the bar extremely high for storms in the Philippines. Ruby has been compared to Yolanda in every way: in strength, in size, in direction and in devastation. Some people have even written the storm off because- well it wasn’t nearly as bad as Yolanda.

This week I stood amongst the rubble of Laah’s house as she said, "Yolanda was not the worst. This was the worst for me."

Just days after the storm, I walked into a community that I had been to in July. I remember the community as being a really cute little barangay. Walking the streets there were beautiful flowers around people’s homes and occasionally you could see a break through the homes to carabao resting by rice fields spreading out in the brightest green splendor.

I couldn’t even recognize the community.

On the team with me was Michael, who had been with me through this community before. The look on his face reflected the expression that I could feel on my own. It was a mixture of shock and blankness as we took in what we saw.

Floods and mud had completely changed the atmosphere. Homes were completely gone, trees were down, the road was at some places completely filled with debris- much of it the remains of homes. Belongings were everywhere, everything encased in mud. Some houses still stood while others leaned a bit precariously, left unstable by the force they had withstood.

Ruby was the worst typhoon this community had experienced.

Our team had just distributed tarps and within an hour families were putting them up for shelter. As we walked through people thanked us for being there and thanked us for the relief supplies that we had just given. Looking around, it felt like so little compared to what these families needed.

Watching the Filipinos in the last year has taught me of their resilience and strength, of their faith and determination, and of their ability to carry on and rebuild. It gives me hope for those that have now been devastated by Ruby. While it seems hopeless now, they will continue forward, help will come, and hope will not be lost.

I am glad to have been a part of bringing help and hope to theses battered communities. They remain in my prayers as their struggles are just beginning. Livelihoods along with homes have been lost and there is a long road to recovery ahead. 

A Storm Is Coming

I wish the title was a metaphor, but unfortunately it is very much reality.

Almost a month after the Philippines remembered the devastation of Super Typhoon Haiyan/Yolanda one year ago, another typhoon has built up off the coast.

Winds howling, rain coming down so hard it's painful, CGI & debris flying by, walls crumbling, structures failing and water rising... these are just some of the memories that are now haunting the survivors of Yolanda.

And not just these, the loss of home and belongings, not knowing if your family is alive, watching those you love get pulled away in a flood, climbing and clinging to higher places, praying that you will be spared, walking through a devastated community, going hungry for days with only spoiled rice to eat, all of this and more are raising a panic in regions that are still trying to recover from the last hard hit.

Fear is everywhere.

I walked around Tacloban tonight looking for coffee. When I came to one of the regular places, it was all closed closed up. Across the street, the very popular bubble tea place was empty, and not just of people, all of the tables, chairs and couches were gone. On the corner, the cafe was closed, metal shutters pulled down in front of it.

Coming from North Carolina, I'm familiar with boarding up and battening down the hatches as hurricanes approach. Most people here are the same, but the scars of underestimating a storm are just barely healing. Survivors of the storm began rebuilding so quickly that many of them were slow to begin processing and healing emotionally.

My team is here to support the Philippines. We are making preparations, and our staff has been awesome! But, in some ways I feel helpless to ease the anxiety and panic that is rising. There are some times that only God can bring a peace and a comfort, and this is one of those times. So I pray, and I ask others to pray as well.

One of our staff posted this yesterday to Facebook: "My mind gets fogged with all the bitter memories I had of Haiyan. I couldn't help it. But I cannot succumb to worrying, it does nothing. It does not help one bit. Instead I will pray and prepare. I will be still and know that God is stronger. I will remind myself that I am not helpless. My help comes from the LORD the maker of the heavens and earth."

This morning while leading staff devos, one of our ministry team said this: "My Dad told me, 'Son, we did not survive (Yolanda) because we were good at hiding. We survived because God is a great God.'"

I am so humbled and inspired by the Filipinos that I get to work with. We are facing a storm together, but they are also facing trauma and painful memories. Through it all though, we rely on the same God, and he is a great God.

Please pray for the Philippines.

(this isn't Hagupit/Ruby)