I, like many others, have been watching footage of the devastation in Japan today. The images are heart stopping and frightening, as I’m sure you know. I find myself wondering and worrying about those in the path of destruction, the ones missing, and the ones lost. And then, there have been stories. Stories of sacrifice, help, and rescue. And although those stories are fewer than the ones of ruin, they’re there.
My own neighborhood received a heavy dose of water as well. In fact, our little town was on the local news today because of waist high waters near the grocery store where I shop. I walked around there today. The roads were closed off with barriers and police cars. The overflowed creek waters left muck and slop, hanging a horrible stench in the air when they resided.
I took a few steps back to grasp the full scale of the mess, and noticed numerous puddles scattered across the earth. Like mirrors, they reflected the soft colors of the beautiful, after-storm sky with perfect clarity. And for a moment, I thought it was lovely.
Maybe that’s the key to understanding. To us, close to it, in it, we only see a mess. A horrifying mess. But the Creator, He is above overseeing it all. And He sees what we cannot. He has inserted numerous puddles of beauty. Maybe I cannot see just how many, but I have faith they’re there.
"He's got the whole world in His hands.
He's got the whole wide world in His hands.
He's got the whole world in His hands.
He's got the whole world in His hands."