Early Friday morning around 4:30 AM we were tossed out of bed by an earthquake. We live in southern Indiana. Saying that out loud, it’s like saying my parents saw a tornado back home in San Diego. It’s mystifying.

The funny thing was, I was dreaming that I was in SD, in a 50+ story hotel, on the 50th+ floor, when the shaking started. So naturally, when I awoke, I had no reason not to believe I was still dreaming, because hey, we’re in Indiana, we don’t get earthquakes. Apparently, we’re not immune.

You can run, but…

So the thing I tried to run from by moving to Indiana, is something, it turns out, that I can’t run from after all. Earthquakes, I’ve rediscovered, are unmistakably and unreservedly within God’s control, and His alone.

When I woke up that morning, the first thought that came to me wasn’t the 50+ stories, it wasn’t fear, it wasn’t even about the kids or my husband. It was guilt. I actually said to God in my heart, in the dark, What did I do? But I didn’t put emphasis on the “I” like a kid would, it was on the “do” like a serious concern about how I had angered God.

Now, I know this was because I was sleepy and coming out of a dream state, but much like being drunk, I also know this was the honesty of my feelings coming out too, a feeling I haven’t dealt with in a long time.

When I left California in 2000, I was running. I always liked to say I was running to something, to God, to a better life, to a little less liberalism. In reality, though, I was running away, from earthquakes to be sure, but also from myself and who I had become without Christ. But like natural disasters, who you are is a part of God and you can’t run from it. You can only take what you have and try to improve.

A Club to Which We Belong

I commented on Twitter the other day, cringing a bit, hearing that someone “accepted Christianity” and wondering if instead they should accept Christ. (link) I wasn’t being judgmental and if you knew me, hopefully that would be clear. I said that because I’ve been there. I was once the one who said I now believe in the whole “Christianity thing” and was proud I could call myself a Christian.

It wasn’t real to me yet. It was a club to which I belonged, a place to find new friends and learn something new, even better myself, where Jesus was much like a self-help guru. Christianity as I knew it was just another option. I was opting for the Christian world-view instead of my previous unitarian-universalist view, though on the down-low I kept my faith in horoscopes and other new age things.

In trying to run from myself, my past, I jumped head first into marriage, motherhood, and Christianity. These weren’t things I took seriously, though I believed at the time I was very serious. My intentions were always honorable, but I had so much to learn. I still do.

With that earthquake, I started to think about who I am now and what made me run eight years ago. Am I any better? Some. But am I anywhere near who God wants me to be? Not even close. When the house started shaking, it was literally like the hand of God reaching down and shaking me, shaking sense into me I should say.

Then last night around midnight, there was another quick jolt. It couldn’t have been more than 5 seconds because it takes about 3 seconds for my brain to wrap itself around the fact that yes, yes, this is in fact an earthquake. My heart stopped. In California aftershocks tend to come within a few hours of the original quake. You wouldn’t typically see one the Monday following a Friday quake (from my memory), so this was unexpected. I thought it was over.

The Mortality Thing

Oddly enough, the feeling was the same. As I lay there, groggily recalling the jolt, I was again feeling guilt, like God was trying to get my attention. Of course I don’t mean to imply that God would make the earth shake just for my benefit, that would be insane. :) I do think He can do a million things at once and one of the things He was doing this weekend was poking me with a stick to nudge me in the right direction.

So now I’m bracing myself for future quakes. Something tells me this isn’t over, that it may just be the beginning. Maybe there are more and bigger disasters on the way, or maybe just more of God directing my life, but if there’s one thing about natural disasters… If you’ve experienced one recently, you probably know what I’m talking about. There’s a definite feeling of mortality that comes with them, a feeling that, for a few minutes, or hours, or days, you are absolutely without control and God has it completely.

This can be a good thing, but for most of us, it’s frightening. We forget that in just a few minutes, God can bring your world down around you and leave you standing there staring at rubble and lost dreams. And if you don’t know God, if you don’t fully understand how He works, that fear can last forever. I pray today that you’ll have an opportunity to feel a little mortality, just a little, and that I will continue to remember this feeling myself and use it to do more good with the life God has allowed me to continue today.