Saturday morning we got an alarming message from our grandson Aren. “A large earthquake has just struck. I’m out in the streets with crowds of people. I’m OK.” Aren lives in Marrakech, Morocco.
This earthquake has been in the
headlines the last three days, with news of the devastation. The 6.8 quake
struck without warning late Friday, the epi-center being south of Marrakech. While
the city was minimally affected, many small villages to the south in the Atlas
Mountains have been decimated. The 2700 people reported dead (and the number is
climbing) are mostly in these villages.
We proudly watched Aren graduate
in 2019 From George Fox University with a degree in engineering. He soon found
a job with a large business in the greater Portland area, but his heart has
always been in overseas service. He spent several years searching for the right
organization and situation to go out with in some kind of short-term service,
thinking that two years might be enough to get direction for the rest of his life.
He wanted to be involved in helping people start small businesses in poverty-stricken
areas.
We always knew that someday he
would leave family and be off somewhere on the other side of the world. We knew
this would probably be a good thing. And we knew that we'd miss him.
A few years ago he discovered an
opportunity with an NGO in Morocco. They were working in setting up a unique
business in the city of Marrakech—a climbing gym. Aren is athletic and loves
climbing walls and cliffs. It seemed a good fit (and has proved to be so), and
so a year of applications, interviews, a visit to the field, and raising support
followed.
Finally, in November of 2022, less
than a year ago, Aren boarded the plane in Portland for his big adventure. Although
we had walked with him through the difficulties and triumphs of the process, praying
often and participating in the excitement, it was hard for his family and
friends to see him leave.
It’s been a good experience so far
and Aren has been faithful in communicating. (Thank God for modern technology
that allows for actual conversations and instant messages.) He has focused on
language and culture learning, forming relationships and, of course, learning
the business. Although missing home at times and experiencing the natural
ups-and-downs of this kind of cross-cultural experience, he seems to be
thriving.
Friday night, Aren was sitting in
his living room with a Moroccan friend when the floor started dancing. They ran
out into the streets where people were in panic, the pavement still bouncing
around. Buildings in his immediate neighborhood were still standing, although
everything seemed precarious. Aren told us that his ADHD helped him and he
immediately assessed the situation and began thinking through possible actions.
After the ground stopped moving, he and his friend headed on foot for the home
of a team member where he was able to borrow a four-wheel-drive vehicle. Aren
and a few of his friends loaded the car with as much water as they could buy. They
drove through the city, seeing it was only minimally damaged, and headed out to
a village where one of his friends lived.
Half the buildings in the village had been destroyed and many people killed. Survivors were dazed, walking around, grieving. The guys spent the rest of the night there, searching for survivors, digging through rubble, comforting people as best they could. By morning they saw trucks of Moroccans entering the village with enough supplies and workers to begin meeting the need. They went home to sleep for a few hours before heading out to another village the next day.
He called us this morning (his
Monday evening) and we mainly listened. He says he is not yet ready to
emotionally process what is happening to the country and to him personally.
There is still too much to be done. He’s especially concerned for the many
remote villages without easy access. He wants to take his motorcycle up into
the hills to discover communities that need help.
That sounds really dangerous. But
we held back on counseling him not to do it. It would be our fear speaking, not
whatever wisdom we might have. We have to leave him to his own discernment of
what God is asking of him.
But I do fear, even as I am proud
of him. Hal and I both have the sense that God placed him in this situation “for
such a time as this.”
I’m remembering this morning the
message from Kahlil Gibran about children (and grandchildren). I read it and
marked it up years ago, before I was even married or had children of my own. It
touches me today.
Your children are not your
children.
They are the sons and daughters
of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not
from you.
And though they are with you,
yet they belong not to you….
You are the bows from which
your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon
the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go
swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s
hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow
that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
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