Rebuilding
Seasons of rebuilding attend all periods of change. It's that way for communities and people alike. The sounds of Saipan are sounds of rebuilding. One year ago, October 2018, the eye of Super Typhoon Yutu went over Tinian (Saipan's closest island neighbor about three miles by boat) and Saipan. I was reading reports this week that the islands experienced winds in the 200 mph range. Today, Saipan is rebuilding. The sounds of construction filled my ears this week as I sat in my little apartment and studied. At one point I got up to snap a picture. Here is my view when I look out my balcony.
The sounds of heavy machinery are just beyond the patched together tin roof in the foreground. In the middle ground, although I missed getting a shot of them, are men roofing the building across the way. The hotel in the far distance is a work in progress. The street was being fixed to the right of the patched tin roof, which I didn't know until I got in my car to go to the post office. And this is only one small corner of the island. Everywhere I went after visiting the post office the sights and sounds were the same. People are rebuilding.
People are also rebuilding emotionally. Every person I meet tells me a story of how they survived Yutu. When shopping, for example, a person's polite conversation soon turns to stories of Yutu if I linger to visit for a few minutes. I am learning to linger and listen. Their stories start with a horror they experienced but then move to observations about where they are today, both in the rebuilding of their physical surrounds and their emotional state.
I identify strongly with their stories. Moving every 18 months for almost my entire life, I have discovered that rebuilding happens in every new location, physically reestablishing a home in the new place, but also a rebuilding of your emotions as you work to adapt yourself to your new normal. And it takes work. If I allow my mind to dwell for very long on the fears and insecurities that are just simply part of what it means to relocate, I won't move forward into the new normal. I stay stunted in the past, yearning for a life that will never again be what it was. Yearnings like that kill you slowly on the inside.
Although not everyone's story is as devastating to them physically as was Yutu to the people here in Saipan, everyone has a story of relocation. Death. Divorce. Growing up and out of your parent's house. College. Depression. Cancer. Abandonments. Financial losses. Even happy things like marriage or the birth of a baby means a relocation from what was to what is. Change happens. It is a part of life. Having negotiated change on both sides of my journey of faith, both prior to and after entering into a relationship with Jesus Christ, I can say that adapting to a new normal, happy or sad, is easier when you believe that God knows the number of hairs on your head, the minutes left in your life, and the heartaches concealed deep in your soul. God is like a Rock that never changes. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I have learned that it is better to hitch yourself to the solid Rock than try to fly on your own like a kite in the wind without an anchor.
Saipan. I have relocated here physically and am working at relocating emotionally. The sounds of rebuilding outside my balcony, that float into my apartment on the ever-blowing winds, encourage me. When I am afraid, and it happens, I get up and go outside onto my balcony and listen until I am brave enough to move forward another step. And I find myself thanking God for the relocations he has allowed into my life. Rebuilding keeps me close to him. You too?
May God keep you safely hidden beneath his wings today.
Amy
My address is:
Amy Trosen
Box 10002 PMB 1041
Saipan, MO 96950
I have a PayPal.Me account here.
The sounds of heavy machinery are just beyond the patched together tin roof in the foreground. In the middle ground, although I missed getting a shot of them, are men roofing the building across the way. The hotel in the far distance is a work in progress. The street was being fixed to the right of the patched tin roof, which I didn't know until I got in my car to go to the post office. And this is only one small corner of the island. Everywhere I went after visiting the post office the sights and sounds were the same. People are rebuilding.
People are also rebuilding emotionally. Every person I meet tells me a story of how they survived Yutu. When shopping, for example, a person's polite conversation soon turns to stories of Yutu if I linger to visit for a few minutes. I am learning to linger and listen. Their stories start with a horror they experienced but then move to observations about where they are today, both in the rebuilding of their physical surrounds and their emotional state.
I identify strongly with their stories. Moving every 18 months for almost my entire life, I have discovered that rebuilding happens in every new location, physically reestablishing a home in the new place, but also a rebuilding of your emotions as you work to adapt yourself to your new normal. And it takes work. If I allow my mind to dwell for very long on the fears and insecurities that are just simply part of what it means to relocate, I won't move forward into the new normal. I stay stunted in the past, yearning for a life that will never again be what it was. Yearnings like that kill you slowly on the inside.
Although not everyone's story is as devastating to them physically as was Yutu to the people here in Saipan, everyone has a story of relocation. Death. Divorce. Growing up and out of your parent's house. College. Depression. Cancer. Abandonments. Financial losses. Even happy things like marriage or the birth of a baby means a relocation from what was to what is. Change happens. It is a part of life. Having negotiated change on both sides of my journey of faith, both prior to and after entering into a relationship with Jesus Christ, I can say that adapting to a new normal, happy or sad, is easier when you believe that God knows the number of hairs on your head, the minutes left in your life, and the heartaches concealed deep in your soul. God is like a Rock that never changes. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I have learned that it is better to hitch yourself to the solid Rock than try to fly on your own like a kite in the wind without an anchor.
Saipan. I have relocated here physically and am working at relocating emotionally. The sounds of rebuilding outside my balcony, that float into my apartment on the ever-blowing winds, encourage me. When I am afraid, and it happens, I get up and go outside onto my balcony and listen until I am brave enough to move forward another step. And I find myself thanking God for the relocations he has allowed into my life. Rebuilding keeps me close to him. You too?
May God keep you safely hidden beneath his wings today.
Amy
My address is:
Amy Trosen
Box 10002 PMB 1041
Saipan, MO 96950
I have a PayPal.Me account here.
May God richly bless you for helping me do what God has called me to do here in Saipan. Be advised your gift is a personal gift and not tax deductible nor are you receiving from me any goods or services.
Comments
Post a Comment