Hidden Cracks

In the wake of the central Mexico earthquake of September 19th, 2017, I am on the one hand profoundly grateful for the protection that God has shown me and my loved ones here.  We escaped without a scratch and without even damage to property!

That being said, there were definitely internal effects of the quake, not as visible to the naked eye.  In the days following the earthquake, I was skittish... as one friend put it, she felt like a guinea pig: one moment, eating contentedly; the next, running madly for cover at the first loud noise.  Boy, could I relate!  I was constantly on edge, adrenaline flooding my body at the constant sounds of sirens or any other loud sound, as of something falling.  The Saturday after the earthquake, my sister Susanna and I woke to the sound of the earthquake alarm going off again.  It was a terrifying moment, and we ran out of the house as fast as we could, Sus not even stopping long enough to put on her shoes.  Though we didn't even feel that day's earthquake (the epicenter was located many miles away), it was still hard to adjust to normal life, or even a normal heart-rate for a long time.  That night, after my sister returned to the States, I just broke down.  I was so tired and so afraid.

Alternating with the bouts of panic in those first few days were deep periods of indecision and listlessness.  I had the privilege of receiving great counsel in the days after the earthquake, and I remember one speaker saying that the common "fight or flight" responses are not the only options in the face of a disaster.  "Freeze" or numbness is also a common response.  I definitely fell into that category!  Which is not really great, since, as a leader, I was expected to make decisions, and, as a missionary, I was expected to do, do, do!  I thank God that I was able to make the most necessary decisions, which kept our team safe and their families apprised of their whereabouts.  Still, it was hard to feel like I wasn't doing enough.  This continues to be a struggle.  It's different than survivor's guilt.  It's the guilt of not being the "hero" of the situation, the first person to run into the rubble.  My next post will deal with some of this, as well.