E-mail of a trip to Aceh
Hey guys; this is an e-mail sent to me from a friend of mine. She and a group from our old school in Malaysia left and went to Aceh for a time to help with the relief effort. She wrote to tell of her time there, and I found it to be a very moving e-mail. I've asked her permission to share it with you; her name is Christina, and she's a senior in high school at my old school. May this e-mail bless you as it did me. And, as Christina specifically requested, may any and all glory from her story go to God.
Thank you for your prayers. Thank you, thank you thank you. Your prayers were felt and answered...and it's scary to think what could've happened if we hadn't been so enveloped in prayer.
So, how was the trip? i've heard that question a kazillion times from people around here....how was it. well, God's hand was unbelievably apparent in everything. It was most certainly God's thing, through and through. and it was good. It was difficult. it was sobering, sad, terrible. the destruction is overwhelming. the number of souls that perished in a matter of minutes is unbearable. and yet, what is in the past is in the past. we mourn for them, but even more importantly, we need to concern ourselves with those who still live--with those for whom there is still a chance. for there are still hundreds, thousands of refugees who live on whether they want to or not.
no one has been unaffected by the tsunami. in banda aceh, 7 out of 10 people died. to meet a person who hasn't had an immediate family member swept away is incredible; but they most certainly have at least one extended-family member who is dead. not even to mention their friends that have been taken away. the reality for them is impossible to imagine. i have to trust that God knows where they're at and will comfort them. please pray for these people, you guys. Pray that God will be at work in their lives, that amidst all this destruction, His name will be lifted high. Jesus is the hope of the nations, and may they know that hope.
People ask us how was the trip. my feeling is, this trip was not about us so why should i elaborate on how i felt about it, etc? this trip was about bringing mercy and relief to a people who desperately need it. this trip was about bringing God glory, about lifting His name up not ours. and you guys, it is so true---God is high above us. He is lifted high. He is in control of the situation, and He is love. God is love, make no mistake. He is a man well aquainted with sufferings, He took our pain upon himself. and He feels the pain of the Acehnese.pray that their suffering will not be in vain--but rather that their suffering will lead them closer to Christ and bring them to eternal salvation.
So how did the trip go. Well, it went well. On our first night in Aceh, we felt an earthquake. It was actually a cool sensation, kinda a general rocking of the ground beneath our feet. We didnt' think that much of it, cuz it didn't feel that big. (later we found out it was a 6.2 on the richter scale) A few minutes later, Aaron and I went to go find some water to drink. As we were walking to get the water, a man came running past us yelling something in bahasa about "air datang" (indonesian for "water coming"). He ran into a room and a few seconds later out came a herd of 15-20 people looking frantic and rushed. i tried to make sense of the situation and ask someone what on earth was going on. Basically they told me, don’t worry but come NOW out to the road. So that’s what aaron and I did….and (keep in mind it was night time…8:30 p.m. local time—dark out) lining the road were Indonesian soldiers with their M16-A1 guns. (is that supposed to make me feel safer? And for crying out loud, what were they gonna shoot? The water???). anyways, so out on the road was chaos…people were running places, yelling, crying, screaming…and everyone was trying to figure out what on earth was going on. Aaron and I walked up the street with the guy who had literally dragged us out of the “hotel”…and so as we tried to figure out what was happening, this happening was burned into my memory forever: A pickup truck full of standing, wailing, crying Indonesians. The truck was already packed with more than 20 people, mainly women and kids. More people were trying to climb in. On the faces of each person—pure, raw terror. I’ve never seen terror before, but the instant I saw it I could recognize what it was. And these women are wailing, screaming, sobbing, terrified that maybe water will come at any moment. And we believed that at any moment we might see a huge wall of black, fuming water come rushing towards us sloshing around debris as it sweeps closer. IN the dark, it was easy to imagine that possibility. And no one really knew what was happening. For all we knew, water was coming. There were men climbing up the trees….then the pickup truck started to drive away. And screams erupted because there were some old ladies who still weren’t in the truck and there were people whose relatives were clinging to them as the truck started driving. And the looks…oh you guys, it’s really impossible to describe. Anyways, the soldiers convinced the driver to stop driving and after a few minutes of this uncertain expectation of maybe water coming, maybe not the soldiers calmed the women down enough to convince them to get out of the truck. Which they did. But they continued sobbing and crying and talking quickly in terror. I put my arm around one woman who was holding a silent child. I asked the woman, “Dia anak-nya?” (is this your child?) she replied through her tears, “bukan. Adik.” (no, it’s my younger sibling). She continued to sob quietly and her younger brother? (I think it was a boy, but she didn’t say) just gazed up with huge chocolate eyes at his sister. You guys, I wondered to myself, where are her parents? Did the wave take her parents? Is she now left with responsibility for this adorable child? How can she manage? I’ll never know the answers to those questions….in the midst of this terror, all I could do was cry out to God. And what can I even say? All I can say is just, “Oh God….oh God.” Not swearing, but simply crying out to my Lord by name and begging Him to do what He can, to do what the people need, to understand them and comfort them in the way only he can.
Yes, so that was our first night in Aceh. :-)
The other days we helped clean out a kindergarten and paint it. One day we packaged over 3,000 bags of rice and noodles for refugees. One day we passed out food to refugees and played with kids. One day we went to church and talked with some Aussie soldiers that were dragging two big boats off the road. One day we went to a seminar on how to deal with trauma survivors—for truly these people suffered an unbelievable trauma. So yeah, that’s what we did. And we spent time with other aid workers, encouraging them and worshipping with them. It was truly wonderful. And we invested in the lives of a few individuals there in Aceh. One Acehnese girl, Sherli, we befriended while cleaning the kindergarten ended up sleeping in our “hotel” room for two nights and even came to church with us on Sunday. And then there was the taxi driver, Irwan, who lost 22 of his extended family members who we played karat (rubber band games) with at the airport…it was worth it just to bring a smile to his face…who knows the last time is he played a game.
Everyone was so loving and friendly, I can’t even begin to tell you that all that propaganda about the stubborn, fierce Acehnese is so untrue. At the refugee camp, one guy asked me if I’d ever been to Aceh before. I told him no because people said it was unsafe for Americans to go to Aceh. He said, who said that? I said, oh lots of people said that people in Aceh dislike people from America. He said, “that’s not true. I am acehnese and I like Americans. You tell your people that we don’t dislike them at all.” So I said, okay I’ll tell them. J
Such sincerity, such love amidst so much suffering and pain. You guys, these people aren’t perfect, but they are people like the rest of us. they may have a different religion, they might dress differently and have a different culture, but they’re people. I talked with some muslim girls and asked them what they wanna do after they graduate from university. One of them was an English major (and wanted to be a teacher); they other wanted to work in the local government. Both of them wanted to travel. They wanted to go to italy and meet handsome guys. Isn’t that funny? They’re people just everyone else. Anyways, so I say all this to show you that the news is biased and to tell you not to believe what the Indonesian government says about the Acehnese. And to encourage you all to pray for those who continue to work in Aceh and for the Acehnese themselves. And to thank you for praying for us while we were gone.
Thank you for your prayers. Thank you, thank you thank you. Your prayers were felt and answered...and it's scary to think what could've happened if we hadn't been so enveloped in prayer.
So, how was the trip? i've heard that question a kazillion times from people around here....how was it. well, God's hand was unbelievably apparent in everything. It was most certainly God's thing, through and through. and it was good. It was difficult. it was sobering, sad, terrible. the destruction is overwhelming. the number of souls that perished in a matter of minutes is unbearable. and yet, what is in the past is in the past. we mourn for them, but even more importantly, we need to concern ourselves with those who still live--with those for whom there is still a chance. for there are still hundreds, thousands of refugees who live on whether they want to or not.
no one has been unaffected by the tsunami. in banda aceh, 7 out of 10 people died. to meet a person who hasn't had an immediate family member swept away is incredible; but they most certainly have at least one extended-family member who is dead. not even to mention their friends that have been taken away. the reality for them is impossible to imagine. i have to trust that God knows where they're at and will comfort them. please pray for these people, you guys. Pray that God will be at work in their lives, that amidst all this destruction, His name will be lifted high. Jesus is the hope of the nations, and may they know that hope.
People ask us how was the trip. my feeling is, this trip was not about us so why should i elaborate on how i felt about it, etc? this trip was about bringing mercy and relief to a people who desperately need it. this trip was about bringing God glory, about lifting His name up not ours. and you guys, it is so true---God is high above us. He is lifted high. He is in control of the situation, and He is love. God is love, make no mistake. He is a man well aquainted with sufferings, He took our pain upon himself. and He feels the pain of the Acehnese.pray that their suffering will not be in vain--but rather that their suffering will lead them closer to Christ and bring them to eternal salvation.
So how did the trip go. Well, it went well. On our first night in Aceh, we felt an earthquake. It was actually a cool sensation, kinda a general rocking of the ground beneath our feet. We didnt' think that much of it, cuz it didn't feel that big. (later we found out it was a 6.2 on the richter scale) A few minutes later, Aaron and I went to go find some water to drink. As we were walking to get the water, a man came running past us yelling something in bahasa about "air datang" (indonesian for "water coming"). He ran into a room and a few seconds later out came a herd of 15-20 people looking frantic and rushed. i tried to make sense of the situation and ask someone what on earth was going on. Basically they told me, don’t worry but come NOW out to the road. So that’s what aaron and I did….and (keep in mind it was night time…8:30 p.m. local time—dark out) lining the road were Indonesian soldiers with their M16-A1 guns. (is that supposed to make me feel safer? And for crying out loud, what were they gonna shoot? The water???). anyways, so out on the road was chaos…people were running places, yelling, crying, screaming…and everyone was trying to figure out what on earth was going on. Aaron and I walked up the street with the guy who had literally dragged us out of the “hotel”…and so as we tried to figure out what was happening, this happening was burned into my memory forever: A pickup truck full of standing, wailing, crying Indonesians. The truck was already packed with more than 20 people, mainly women and kids. More people were trying to climb in. On the faces of each person—pure, raw terror. I’ve never seen terror before, but the instant I saw it I could recognize what it was. And these women are wailing, screaming, sobbing, terrified that maybe water will come at any moment. And we believed that at any moment we might see a huge wall of black, fuming water come rushing towards us sloshing around debris as it sweeps closer. IN the dark, it was easy to imagine that possibility. And no one really knew what was happening. For all we knew, water was coming. There were men climbing up the trees….then the pickup truck started to drive away. And screams erupted because there were some old ladies who still weren’t in the truck and there were people whose relatives were clinging to them as the truck started driving. And the looks…oh you guys, it’s really impossible to describe. Anyways, the soldiers convinced the driver to stop driving and after a few minutes of this uncertain expectation of maybe water coming, maybe not the soldiers calmed the women down enough to convince them to get out of the truck. Which they did. But they continued sobbing and crying and talking quickly in terror. I put my arm around one woman who was holding a silent child. I asked the woman, “Dia anak-nya?” (is this your child?) she replied through her tears, “bukan. Adik.” (no, it’s my younger sibling). She continued to sob quietly and her younger brother? (I think it was a boy, but she didn’t say) just gazed up with huge chocolate eyes at his sister. You guys, I wondered to myself, where are her parents? Did the wave take her parents? Is she now left with responsibility for this adorable child? How can she manage? I’ll never know the answers to those questions….in the midst of this terror, all I could do was cry out to God. And what can I even say? All I can say is just, “Oh God….oh God.” Not swearing, but simply crying out to my Lord by name and begging Him to do what He can, to do what the people need, to understand them and comfort them in the way only he can.
Yes, so that was our first night in Aceh. :-)
The other days we helped clean out a kindergarten and paint it. One day we packaged over 3,000 bags of rice and noodles for refugees. One day we passed out food to refugees and played with kids. One day we went to church and talked with some Aussie soldiers that were dragging two big boats off the road. One day we went to a seminar on how to deal with trauma survivors—for truly these people suffered an unbelievable trauma. So yeah, that’s what we did. And we spent time with other aid workers, encouraging them and worshipping with them. It was truly wonderful. And we invested in the lives of a few individuals there in Aceh. One Acehnese girl, Sherli, we befriended while cleaning the kindergarten ended up sleeping in our “hotel” room for two nights and even came to church with us on Sunday. And then there was the taxi driver, Irwan, who lost 22 of his extended family members who we played karat (rubber band games) with at the airport…it was worth it just to bring a smile to his face…who knows the last time is he played a game.
Everyone was so loving and friendly, I can’t even begin to tell you that all that propaganda about the stubborn, fierce Acehnese is so untrue. At the refugee camp, one guy asked me if I’d ever been to Aceh before. I told him no because people said it was unsafe for Americans to go to Aceh. He said, who said that? I said, oh lots of people said that people in Aceh dislike people from America. He said, “that’s not true. I am acehnese and I like Americans. You tell your people that we don’t dislike them at all.” So I said, okay I’ll tell them. J
Such sincerity, such love amidst so much suffering and pain. You guys, these people aren’t perfect, but they are people like the rest of us. they may have a different religion, they might dress differently and have a different culture, but they’re people. I talked with some muslim girls and asked them what they wanna do after they graduate from university. One of them was an English major (and wanted to be a teacher); they other wanted to work in the local government. Both of them wanted to travel. They wanted to go to italy and meet handsome guys. Isn’t that funny? They’re people just everyone else. Anyways, so I say all this to show you that the news is biased and to tell you not to believe what the Indonesian government says about the Acehnese. And to encourage you all to pray for those who continue to work in Aceh and for the Acehnese themselves. And to thank you for praying for us while we were gone.
posted by Katy @ 10:33 PM
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