7 Months

I absolutely cannot believe its been seven months since the earthquake in Haiti. In some ways it feels like it was just yesterday, and in some ways I feel like it was forever ago.

I've been thinking about writing a blog about healing. I can't even begin to explain how much progress I have made in the past 7 months. Last week there were a few times that I thought, "wow, did I even think about the earthquake today?" Which, by thinking that I guess I did, but still. Its progress. Or is it?

I prayed (still do pray) both for and against the day that I don't think about the earthquake. Part of me wants to move on and be a normal functioning human being again. But a very large part of me doesn't ever want to forget any detail of what I saw, or heard, or felt, or smelled...(smelt?) I'm caught in between wanting to have a heart that is healed and feeling incredibly guilty about moving on. I always have to remind myself that its not like I'm forgetting, or brushing those people and experiences aside. I'm just dealing with them differently.

I'm in Destin, Florida right now with my family and had no idea of some of the triggers that were here. I was walking through the parking lot with my family for dinner yesterday and then started crying...
What? where did that come from?! Why am I crying?
Oh, the last time I was in Florida was right after the earthquake. I didn't know that thought would even cross my mind, or bother me.

I feel like I keep looking at the clock today at crucial moments. Like I looked at the clock and it was 4:50. Three minutes before the earthquake. 7 months ago at that time I was sleeping soundly having no idea what was about to happen. 6 months ago at that time I was sitting in Mugwalls coffee shop trying to study and looked at the clock, burst into tears and had to leave. Then for the next 3 hours I had flashbacks and re-lived all that happened during the earthquake and aftermath. Today, there were no tears. I said a prayer for my people and thanked my God for His faithfulness to bring me to this point.

7 months ago, January 12, 2010. My life was changed forever. At this time of the day I was laying in my bed. We weren't allowed to sleep outside that night because we were told our buildings were sound enough and were going to be fine. That didn't stop me from pulling my mattress off the top bunk and dragging it RIGHT up next to the door. The mattress was useless. I knew I wasn't getting any sleep. With every tremor, which felt like they were only 45 seconds apart and still VERY LARGE in magnitude I grew more fearful. Much more fearful than I had been during the actual quake. During the actual quake I was confused, half asleep, and thought it must not have been that bad because our buildings were fine. That night I was not so blissfully ignorant.

I KNEW how bad it was. I had just spent the last 7 hours as a severe acute trauma nurse. I had heard the incessant cries of "Anmwe! (Help!)" As I tried to get people cleaned they were saying, "Li fe mal! We! Li fe mal!" (it hurts! ouch! it hurts!) I would hear them cry out to "Jesi" to hear them and be with them. I repeated over and over again in Creole, "I know it hurts. I am here. I love you. Jesus knows. Jesus is here, Jesus loves you."

As I lay there that night I still felt like I had the smell of burnt skin and blood all around me. Every time I closed my eyes I saw their faces, heard their voices telling me how badly it hurt, but please hurry so they could see their wife, or children again before they died. Absolute heartbreak. At that point I was in total survival mode. I thought when I took a shower earlier that I would cry and try to process some of it, but I couldn't. I had to stay strong or I wasn't going to make it. I put on my scrubs to sleep in, just in case I needed to get up in the middle of the night. Then I grabbed my prayer journal.

You should see my handwriting from that night. It looks like I'm a 4 year old trying to write while riding a roller coaster. Its the "I'm terrified" handwriting.

I never want to lose this prayer journal. I am so thankful that I have it. It is my immediate raw response to my fear. God worked so many miracles that day in the midst of all that tragedy. That tragedy didn't catch Him off guard. Not at all. Looking back at what I wrote that night I am still floored by what I said. I literally could not stop thanking God. (What?!) I know, I'm still surprised. Every time I go back and read that it surprises me. That's not what I remember feeling. But God gave me peace and thankfulness. I ended with this

"Guard my life and rescue me. Let me not be put to shame, for I take refuge in you. May integrity and uprightness protect me because my hope is in You." Psalm 25:20-21