As I’m sitting down to pray about the recent typhoon that devastated parts of the Philippines, I’m reminded of an experience I had while living in Boston years ago. My husband and I had purchased our first home—a two-level condo in the Back Bay area of the city. The lower level was called a “garden level” because it was not quite basement level but definitely below street level. One summer night there was a terrific rainstorm that hit the city, and the downpour was torrential. At around three o’clock in the morning we were awakened to the sound of things crashing around in the living room below our bedroom. It soon became apparent that there was over four feet of water in our lower living area, and just about everything we owned was floating or under water.
The following day we learned that the entire Back Bay area of the city had been flooded because of an electrical failure that caused city water pumps to stop. Consequently, all the rain plus the water from an unusually high tide had nowhere to go but up into peoples’ homes. The next day revealed a scene of thousands of people trying to recover and salvage their belongings.
However, within hours the scene looked different to me—even though outwardly nothing had really changed. Instead of sadness, I saw neighbors helping neighbors with hugs, food, assistance, and words of encouragement. Instead of destruction, I began to see the spirit of brother- and sisterhood, and a common purpose to rise up and persevere. I saw people praying. I even saw some smiling. And most touchingly, I saw people meeting each other for the first time and having thoughtful conversations. It was a whole new view—and it was one that offered promise instead of despair. I felt and saw the Spirit of God in action over those next few months. Restoration and renewal took place, and I believe lives were uplifted. I know ours were.
Shortly after the typhoon hit the Philippines,
We never lost anything of real value—our love for each other, our sense of home, or our neighborliness (which in fact grew stronger). We still had our intelligence, creativity, goodness, integrity, spirit of joy and peace, and a strong desire to rebuild and move forward.
I watched an interview with a young Catholic priest from the Philippines, conducted by one of the news organizations. The priest said he was absolutely certain that with the loss of material things you have to grow closer to God. He was absolutely convinced that this would be the real outcome of the tragedy.
The spirit of divine Love is powerful—infinitely more powerful than a typhoon. And the reason why is because Love is eternal, immortal, untouched by materiality. As children of Love, which we really all are, we dwell in this eternity, undamaged by material circumstances. It’s the scene behind the scene that gives us the real picture. This scene is revealed to us through God’s grace—and it is revealed to each individual in just the right way.
Remember the Bible story of Elijah. He was on the run for fear of his life, hiding in a cave and pretty much wanting to give up and die. At one point he hears God’s voice telling him to come out of the cave and stand before Him on the top of the mountain. The Bible then reads, “And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice” (I Kings 19:11, 12).
The Bible doesn’t tell us what that still small voice said specifically, but it had to have been something reassuring and promising because Elijah went out from that cave to continue his journey as a very successful prophet of the Lord’s.
The still small voice, or the Spirit of the Lord, is speaking to each of us in just the right way. This Spirit is what moves us out of the cave of fear and oppression. It’s what picks us up, propels us forward, and strengthens our steps. We will witness this in the Philippines.
Katie Martin lives in Newburyport, Massachusetts.
