But my little illness is nothing compared to the hurt, loss and pain happening in Japan.
14 years ago this month my parents home was flattened by a tornado. My mother, father and sister were inside. By the grace of God they made it out alive. So did my brother who was in a store downtown, where he helped get everyone to a safe place then worked the rest of the day and night to move perishable merchandise across town.
When I see pictures of Japanese people digging through rubble I can identify – not on the massive scale of course – but on the single, personal scale. On what it is like to see your home and your neighborhood reduced to rubble. To see soldiers stationed on every corner, to stand in a line in the rain for food that you will eat under a tent. It is surreal.
So everytime you see something or hear something about Japan so pray a prayer or two or two dozen for their people and their government.
And help out if you can. Their pain will be large and small, it will be communal and personal, it will be physical and spiritual. And it will take a long time to heal – especially on the inside.