Relief. Relief that the decision was finally made. I would take the kids back to the States for a few weeks until things settled down. No more nerve rattling earthquakes to wake me at night. No more onslaught of news as we tried to make a wise decision back and forth, back and forth. The struggle to process life's turn of events in fact and faith, not fear; yet rumors often confused us. Relief that the kids were safe; at least as safe as we could possibly make them.
Sadness. Sadness that I was leaving my husband behind to be our family's lone rrepresentative in the land whose wealth and wordiness had been shaken and then washed out to sea. How I wanted to comfort and stand by our struggling Japanese believers; to encourage them to call out, along with me, to the God of refuge and strength; who promised help in times of trouble.
If ever Japan needed us, it was now. The desperate opportunities to help in the CRASH office set my heart of mercy on fire. How exciting to be a part of reaching out to the Japanese when they finally felt a need, when the cement wall of self sufficiency around their hearts had cracked. The Japanese were in need, not just for stability, a warm mat, dependable trains, gas or toilet paper, but in need of a God who holds the earth in His Hands and longs to hold their hand as they begin to shift through the rubble of their topsy-turvy world.
