Imagine this: you're at home eating dinner when suddenly the table starts to shudder and shake. A low rumbling begins, growing louder and louder, building to a roar. Pictures begin falling off the walls and plaster starts tumbling from the ceiling. There's not a moment to waste - you dive under the table and cower in terror as the world crashes down around you.
Or perhaps you're outside, standing on the sidewalk. All of a sudden you feel dizzy, and the ground begins to ripple and roll beneath you. The buildings begin to sway. You watch in horror as they collapse into rubble. The world beneath you has awakened, and you are helpless in its power.
There's something strange and terrible about an earthquake, isn't there? For years, centuries, even, we humans go about our lives unconcerned, while deep below us huge plates of stone push against each other and giant forces build. Then one day the rock suddenly shifts. Incredible power - power equal to tons of explosives or even nuclear bombs - is released as the solid ground beneath our feet comes alive and our world is thrown into chaos. The immense power of the forces of nature are suddenly revealed, and we discover how small and frail we truly are.
As you know, that truth has been played out before the eyes of the world earlier this month when a major earthquake brought devastation to Turkey and Syria, transforming towns and cities to piles of rubble. Thousands upon thousands of innocent people died in those few terrifying minutes as the world tumbled down around them.
The earthquake left unimaginable loss and suffering in its wake. Whole towns were reduced to ruins and thousands were left without homes. Some lost their whole families and are left utterly alone. It has been heartbreaking, seeing the ranks of shrouded bodies and the death toll mounting day by day.
Many of the deaths could have been prevented, too. Corrupt contractors and politicians obsessed with speedy development led to cities filled with flimsy buildings. There had been warnings for years, but the debt for that greed and shortsightedness came due that day, and they collapsed like a house of cards, claiming even more innocent lives.
So many questions. So much sorrow. The cold, invincible power of the earth, able to destroy in a moment. And atop all that power, we frail, foolish humans, left in the ruins.
I have been looking, in all this destruction, for some signs of hope. They are there, you know. Look at the thousands of rescuers, neighbors shifting stones with their bare hands to pull the trapped victims free. Look, too, at the outpouring of compassion, aid pouring in from around the world, people giving what help they can and sending their love and prayers. And even now a few last survivors are being pulled from the rubble, bringing joy to their exhausted rescuers and communities who need every little bit of hope these days.
We saw, in those moments of the earthquake, just how destructive our earth can be when its immense power is released. But there's another kind of power that, I think, is even stronger in its way.
If you were to hover high over those ruined towns and piles of rubble, you would see figures moving. They look so small. Come closer, though: there they are, those tiny humans with their great courage and their stubborn persistence. Shifting stones, driving convoys of trucks, setting up tents and handing out food. Parents holding their children. Neighbors comforting one another. That's the strongest force there is: the power of compassion and hope. The earth may bring us to our knees, but together we will rise up from the rubble again.
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