Typhoons and the Mystery of Suffering

As I sit here writing, rain is pouring in sheets outside. Not any ordinary rain, but what Filipinos call “habagat” (monsoon rain), made stronger by the tail end of a typhoon.

I had never feared rain before living in the Philippines, even the thunder and lightning storms that came so often to my native Singapore. However strong the rain, you never worried for your safety. Here, though, I have learnt a better reverence for the forces of nature. The Philippines experiences an average of 20 typhoons every year. I remember sitting and looking out the window during my first serious typhoon, with the electricity out, awed by the force of the winds lashing the trees outside. In the evening, when the storm had quieted and we could venture out again, the neighbours were also emerging from their houses and there was a sense of camaraderie on the street. People took out their radios and sat around. Later on, we heard the stories of trees falling across roads and roofs being blown off and, in places further away, of landslides, flooding, and deaths.

Whenever the rain is heavy, I am very aware of the many people around us who suffer from it: the homeless family with a baby who live down the street; those in the slum area near us whose leaky houses make the wet season miserable; those who can’t get home because of the floods; those near the creek who have to evacuate to higher ground…

I can hardly get my mind around how this awesome, life-giving rain that brings beauty and freshness back to the earth also brings destruction and misery in its wake.

But isn’t that the same with so many of our experiences in life? Creation and destruction so often come together; joy and suffering seem to be inseparable twins. I don’t think there can ever be a satisfactory answer as to why this happens, except that it is just the way the universe has been, since the very beginning of time. Is it not the endless cycles of creation and destruction that have produced the suns, planets, Earth, and the myriad forms of life and consciousness that we know today? And is it not the joys and sufferings of our lives that have made us who we are today?

That life always emerges again out of apparent death… that is the essence of Christian hope, the faith we are challenged to have. If after the death of Christ comes the resurrection, so will it come also for us. We are invited then to consciously say “yes” to the mystery of life, death and resurrection – of creation, destruction, and rebirth – that weaves itself into the pattern of our days, always holding onto the hope that we are – in some way we can’t understand – being drawn more and more into the heart of God, who is Life.

O Breath of Life,

moving in the groanings 

of earth’s becoming,

breathe within me today

and open me to the MORE 

of life around me.

Gently disturb my complacency

and draw me more fully into 

the desire you whisper in my heart.

Let that desire lead more surely

towards the depth of Love

and fullness of being

for which I so much long.

- Unknown author

Food for thought:
How has nature spoken to me about life; about the divine?
How have I experienced the cycles of life, death and resurrection in my life?