In every disaster, there are stories of selfless sacrifice. In Japan, there seemed to be no other kind of story.
—Bangkok Post March 20, 2011
The dignity, perseverance and sacrificial spirit of the Japanese are something to be admired. Those affected by the earthquake and tsunami of March 11, had to survive, while also working to overcome the destruction and deaths around them. They did it without looting and grabbing what they needed. There were those who were even sacrificial like the man who returned eight bottles of water to a store in case others needed it.
On March 11, 2011, thriving centers of the fishing industry, homes, highways, populated areas of commerce were destroyed in one devastating blow. Even as the most technologically-advanced country in the world, Japan could not withstand the force and fury of nature on that day.
Mangled cars, piles of concrete wreckage where buildings once stood, mud-stained streets, trash and debris were everywhere. Then, there was the sight of dead bodies—people, livestock and animals.
This past week, I’ve been thinking and reflecting on this—trying to find the words, some sense of understanding in order to empathize and comfort others, it's been hard.
I saw a new perspective when I heard from someone who once visited the Vatican Museum in Rome, which boasts a beautiful tapestry. This massive masterpiece had two sides on display—on the front, you could see the depiction of some glorious historical moment captured exquisitely on cloth.
However, on the back, there was just a tangled mess of loose threads and fabric—crossed, knotted and frayed. Compared to the seamless smooth blend of colors and design on the front, this incomprehensible mesh of threads on the back looked like chaos. It’s hard to understand or see how these threads are tied and put together to create a work of art on the front. Only the artist who weaved it knows and understands how and why each strand is placed where it is.
Now, we too see only the chaos—the messy mesh of threads and fabric in the incomprehensible devastation and aftermath of the tsunami-earthquake disaster. We have no answers.
But the ultimate Designer of our lives is the one who created us, with a plan and purpose for each strand, for each one of us. In life or in death, if we leave it all in the Great Designer’s hands, He will make and use that life to produce the resultant beauty in the big picture of humanity.
Someone once said: "To bring about the beauty of the flame, there must be ashes. Something must go to ashes!" Is there beauty emerging from the ashes?
The pain, anguish and suffering may yet bring forth the miracle of a changed life, a closer-knit family, a compassionate nation. There’s a greater purpose that lies beyond, and it’s there for all those who are seeking it.
We've heard reports since the disaster of how people are responding. One organization even called it a "Tsunami of Love," when they reported about the overwhelming response from people in one city in Japan, far from the destruction in Sendai. Those affected are calmly and intentionally trying to get over the tragedy, with everyone stretching themselves to help others. Yes, there are those who are in need themselves, but they extend themselves to help others in greater need. They put their lives on the line—look at those working to contain the nuclear reactors. They are out there doing all they can, with no thought of their own lives at risk.
Read the story of 50 technicians and firefighters braving the possibility of radiation and fire at the reactors.
Others in and out of Japan are doing what they can to send help or actively participate in projects to help those in the major areas of destruction.
China and Russia, both of whom have been engaged in territorial disputes with Japan, have stood by and committed themselves to do whatever they can to help Japan in her hour of need.
As the rubble clears, I am sure we will hear of more random acts of kindness and sacrificial love, heroic deeds of individuals. In the weeks and months that follow, we will also hear of some positive life changes. On Twitter, we have already got from personal tweets of such loving-kindness and strength.
"Last night when I was tired out waiting for the train at the station, the homeless people gave me one of their cardboards to prevent the cold... even though we usually ignore them in daily life... So warm."
"Last night, when I walked back to home from Campus, a female baker gave us bread for free, even tho’ she had already closed the store. It was moving that I could find people who do things they can do in such situation. My heart became warm. Tokyo is not something dumped."
"There was a train driver who had been working all night long. When I went up to him and said 'It must be tough for you,' he smiled and said to me, 'What else can I do at a time like this?' Made me rethink about the people of Japan. Moved me."
"So busy traffic. Only one car can go across the traffic light per one green light, but I was moved to see people drive gently, giving way. Some intersections have been completely stopped for more than 5 min., but I've never heard any horn sounds except the sounds said "Thank you" for 10 hours. I have come to like Japan more."
Certainly, in the light of the suddenness of the tragedy, we have all realized the priorities of time and the value of our lives. We see how fragile life is; we see how suddenly it can come to an end. The frustrations, pettiness of some of life’s trials give way to the greater concerns of helping others in need, comforting those afflicted and those grieving. If only we can put ourselves in others’ shoes—not just after a tragedy but everyday, knowing that everyone we meet may be going through some crisis. It would then be appropriate to be kind, wouldn’t it?
