This week both Andrew and I went to a flamenco benefit concert for Japan, and ironically enough, there was an earthquake that rocked Southern Spain just 24 hours before the concert.
A sizable town called Lorca, its located about 200 kilometers or 130 miles east of Granada, in the province of Murcia. A brief google search yields the info that at least two evangelical churches exist in the town of about 91.000 people. 13 Catholic churches exist.
There were two major earthquakes in a period of about 2 hours, and than about 30 aftershocks. The nine people who died were outside due to the first earthquake and squashed by falling debris. Two of the nine women were pregnant.
The 13 Catholic churches suffered such damage that no one can enter them. Crumbled, shaken, semi destroyed. Is this the church ....on whom Christ's rock will stand? Wow. The images are startling, as many of these churches have stood for hundreds of years through thousands of tiny earthquakes and the one day this week during a quiet afternoon when everyone was having a coffee in the spring air...BAM. If the earthquakes had occured just one hour later, the death could would have been much higher, as dozens of kids were scheduled to meet in the churches to have their catechism classes.
So, as I stood in a moment of silence with over 60 people in the majestic Isabel La Catolica Theater last night, I cried. Not only for the thousands upon thousands who perished in Japan just two months ago (only that long ago?) but for the city that weeps in Spain this weekend.
And then we listened to, cried, and actively participated in a concert that was one of incredible things I've been to.
Flamenco is active. The singer feels and mourns and rejoices and the guitar weeps with it. The dancer emotes and dances away the sadness, and the audience gives their encouragement verbally. The clappers watch ever move the lead singer makes, in order to clap the emotion portrayed. The other musicians, flute, bass, cajon, or whatever they are echo the passion portrayed by the lead artist. The audience responds and in turn gives energy to the musicians.
It's a symbiotic relationship, one that echos our very lives. Even though Japan is on the other side of the globe, we weep. Even though Lorca is still 2 hours away, we still feel the anguish. We pray, we love, we send what little money we can, and we weep.
Strangely enough, in all the sadness, Andrew and I have begun the climb to healing. Easter was important, it marked a moment in which we both have experience emotional healing. We feel stronger, and can last through the day. We feel the creativity returning and we know personally, just like the woman with the issue of blood, that with ..."his stripes we are healed." We know too, that we are healed to give healing, and even though all we did was go to a concert, we hope that somehow, we have become part of that healing, even from so far away.
Betrayed, lied to, and deceived.
Grief.
Pain and sadness
Lowest of the low.
Miry pits, of clay and water and depression.
He too was betrayed, lied to, and deceived with that horrible kiss.
He too grieved over death.
He felt inexplicable pain and sadness. Separated from the Father.
Sunk to Sheol.
And with these wounds. Healed. Free. To go and help heal others, so that they may know Him.
May you know His healing personally.
A sizable town called Lorca, its located about 200 kilometers or 130 miles east of Granada, in the province of Murcia. A brief google search yields the info that at least two evangelical churches exist in the town of about 91.000 people. 13 Catholic churches exist.
There were two major earthquakes in a period of about 2 hours, and than about 30 aftershocks. The nine people who died were outside due to the first earthquake and squashed by falling debris. Two of the nine women were pregnant.
The 13 Catholic churches suffered such damage that no one can enter them. Crumbled, shaken, semi destroyed. Is this the church ....on whom Christ's rock will stand? Wow. The images are startling, as many of these churches have stood for hundreds of years through thousands of tiny earthquakes and the one day this week during a quiet afternoon when everyone was having a coffee in the spring air...BAM. If the earthquakes had occured just one hour later, the death could would have been much higher, as dozens of kids were scheduled to meet in the churches to have their catechism classes.
So, as I stood in a moment of silence with over 60 people in the majestic Isabel La Catolica Theater last night, I cried. Not only for the thousands upon thousands who perished in Japan just two months ago (only that long ago?) but for the city that weeps in Spain this weekend.
And then we listened to, cried, and actively participated in a concert that was one of incredible things I've been to.
Flamenco is active. The singer feels and mourns and rejoices and the guitar weeps with it. The dancer emotes and dances away the sadness, and the audience gives their encouragement verbally. The clappers watch ever move the lead singer makes, in order to clap the emotion portrayed. The other musicians, flute, bass, cajon, or whatever they are echo the passion portrayed by the lead artist. The audience responds and in turn gives energy to the musicians.
It's a symbiotic relationship, one that echos our very lives. Even though Japan is on the other side of the globe, we weep. Even though Lorca is still 2 hours away, we still feel the anguish. We pray, we love, we send what little money we can, and we weep.
Strangely enough, in all the sadness, Andrew and I have begun the climb to healing. Easter was important, it marked a moment in which we both have experience emotional healing. We feel stronger, and can last through the day. We feel the creativity returning and we know personally, just like the woman with the issue of blood, that with ..."his stripes we are healed." We know too, that we are healed to give healing, and even though all we did was go to a concert, we hope that somehow, we have become part of that healing, even from so far away.
Betrayed, lied to, and deceived.
Grief.
Pain and sadness
Lowest of the low.
Miry pits, of clay and water and depression.
He too was betrayed, lied to, and deceived with that horrible kiss.
He too grieved over death.
He felt inexplicable pain and sadness. Separated from the Father.
Sunk to Sheol.
And with these wounds. Healed. Free. To go and help heal others, so that they may know Him.
May you know His healing personally.
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