Good in the Rubble. Blessings from the Oso Landslide

I am from Arlington, Washington.

The small city, now on the map due to the landslide here in Oso.

And when we think of disaster and travesties, we think about them in other places, not home. For we as people are good at separating, compartmentalizing, dividing our spirits from those things that hurt us.

We want to survive.  And yet we think survival requires our detaching from anything negative that might pain us.

But many can’t detach tonight.  It’s 3:00 a.m. and the consensus from my Facebook friends is that a lot of us haven’t been sleeping.

We have been seeing the people in the stories we have been hearing; Like those walking around in blood, girls trapped underground nearby, screaming.  We see hands lifted waving in mud, bodies engulfed completely, like white flags begging for someone to free them.  One already lost, trying to rescue them.

And it is one thing to see suffering, it is quite another to have to stand by watching, completely powerless to do anything to help those near us.

It’s a humbling reality, the day any of us come smack dab against the truth that none of us can ever really be saviors.  All we can do is watch and pray.  Lie painfully awake in these days of taunting rain, slowly counting with the coroner, those gone forever, as predicted.

• The babies body recently found.
• The Navy man whose mother died from cancer only a few years ago.
• The Christian couple who did counseling and moved to Oso to build their dream house.
• The wife lost in the mud, whose husband dug himself out with a piece of his recliner.  A man determined to live, a life instinctively resistant, so much so that his fight got him out.

And yet, where is the fight in us when bad things happen?

For us, here in Arlington, the people you see on the evening news aren’t just statistics; they are neighbors, friends, people we know, those we see at the small local Fourth of July parade each year.  These are librarians, people who work in our schools and churches.  It is the child whose desk is now empty next to our daughters and sons in our elementary schools.

And no counseling can ever really fill the void of loss.  No words, or sympathy, or “good thoughts” can replace the cost of another human life.  We simply must grieve and go on, despite how it hurts.  And though time will lessen the sting (or so they say)…the loss of a soul will never be able to be replace.  The love we feel for those hurting, will likely never fully leave.  

Though none of us ever really die in spirit.  We know this because although pain fades, life is short and love truly is eternal.

But at the same time we all seem to be drowning in the mud of our own fears and insecurities.  We doubt God is still good, His hand still strong, His existence still high and lifted up above all circumstances…like a mudslide that instantly buried many.

And yet, the breath of God (Ruach Elohim) whether Christian of not, still exists in all of His creation according to Genesis.  And it is here the Spirit of the Lord warns, and calls, and cries, and allows things to happen that we simply don’t understand.

Yet, death is never God’s plan, it’s the result of the fall of Eve and Adam….but the Bible still teaches, “God sees”.  And seeing is not just what He does, but who He is, “El Roi”, translated from the Hebrew.

We know from scripture God is Sovereign…meaning regardless of sin, He still is high and lifted up and still reigns above principalities, powers, and rulers of this dark world.

And when sin, slips like mud into our living rooms…in the form of anger, hate, doubt, fear, regret, bitterness, or unforgiveness….we can all feel trapped, stuck in a system not allowing us to move.  And it is then, hands lift high and we recognize God alone must be the Savior we are seeking.

And I say this with greatest sensitivity, only because I have also heard the stories….

• One drove out of Oso on 530 moments before, barely skipping the landslide and no one can explain why.
• Two spontaneously stopped for coffee, coming home a little later than expected, saving them from being covered in mud. 
• Others leave town in the nick of time, going to get groceries at Costco, their lives spared as they brushed close with death, while others weren’t quite so lucky.
• Others do construction, and just so happened to enter the town to do some business at the time of its devastation. They were lost, never to be seen again.

And it all can seem unfair, haphazard, unplanned, un-dictated.  Random, if God does not exist, and life is just a crazy game of Russian roulette, where some have to die and others get to live.

A friend I love, we hadn’t heard from in days.  Finally we hear, her house was spared….the slide stopped less than two miles away from where she lives.  Everything she owns, her and all her family spared.

Why did she live and others die?  I do not know.  But I do know our God can be trusted, even when lives are lost, and we ache for those near and dearest to us.

Another barely missed the slide, a few cars away from being inhaled in mud because her husband called her back for a kiss….Oh the kiss of love that spares us from death. 

But friend, no matter how unjust and random all this blended mess of mud is, it is imperative that you get this…..None of this was coincidence.  God did not turn his back, close his eyes, or stomp his foot to make the cliff cave on dozens and dozens of people.

He loves people.  Remember, He created each of us. We were each made in His image. Even the ones who have so suddenly just recently left us.

Scripture tells us, He knows each of the hairs on our heads, He knows our first day to our last. He sees. He hears. He does not change His character when bad things happen.

And the good from the landslide?

• A community independent, strong, self-sufficient is coming together as one.  These are pioneers, people who love nature, but also have adored the isolation that can sometimes come with living acres and acres away from each other.  I have an uncle who was a volunteer firefighter who lives in Darrington, a good friend who also lives in Oso.  And I guarantee, life, and family, and those close to them are more precious than than they ever were before.

And yet, when tragedy strikes, this quiet, small town community is the first to step up, step in, get messy, and face fear strong in the face.  They are resistant.  Resilient.  These are people who can get through anything.  And this season, they will have to lean on each other like never before to do that.

• People all over the world are giving.  And what’s so beautiful is, this time we are not giving to get.  We are giving because our hearts are big, filled with love, and so much compassion for what’s happening in Oso.  And if tragedy must happen for us to get outside of ourselves, to stop being swallowed up in our own murkiness and self-centeredness that consumes our culture…then I count that as good.  For truth is, we are never more like Christ than when we give, sacrificially, unconditionally, selflessly….as Christ did.  

My seven year old is collecting pennies at her school, my teenager has been begging for canned goods for a food drive.  Eyes are turning outward, and even children are gathering to serve the families here in Oso.  People are donating their services, doing funerals for free, paying for the medical costs of the animals displaced.  People are giving supplies, and fields, and literally the coats off their backs to keep these families safe, warm, loved.

And in tragedy or not….Christ rejoices most when we choose to love so tangibly, compassionately, humbly, sacrificially.  

• Lastly, the churches are gathering as one.  Walls have been broken. Community lines shattered.  There is no more denomination over denomination, or “my church is the only way, while yours somehow is sub-par to my religiosity”.  

Yes, God is alive.  He is drawing together congregations, believers and non-believers.  People are praying without ceasing.  Yes, He is moving in the hearts of His people.  Individuals are gathering in our park to hold late night candle light services. Churches are opening their once locked doors.  People are donating counseling services, cooking warm food, or just collectively having nightly services to honor those dead or still unheard from.