03/04 • MYANMAR

As an aid worker, I’ve been part of many earthquake responses over the years — From Gujarat, Nepal, At home in Christchurch in 2011 and most recently Vanuatu. Though each context is unique, some scenes are heartbreakingly familiar.

 

Whole communities reduced to rubble. Schools and hospitals pancaked under the weight of their own walls. A heavy stillness in the air, thick with heat, dust — and the unmistakeable smell of death. People too afraid to re-enter what remains of their homes, sleeping instead under tarpaulins or out in the open. Fear lingers long after the initial quake. Aftershocks come without warning. Sometimes it's just a passing truck that jolts people awake, their hearts racing, wondering if more destruction is moments away.

In recent days, parts of Myanmar have experienced this kind of devastation. While information is still limited, we know enough to hold the people of Myanmar in prayer — not from a distance of indifference, but with the compassion of understanding.

In disasters like these, the first responders are not international teams, but neighbours, family members, local volunteers. They dig through the rubble with their bare hands even while excavators are being mobilised. They know who lived in which house, who might still be trapped. They work in the heat and dust, often with nothing but determination and grief.

Churches and faith communities often become sanctuaries — not just physically, but spiritually — providing pastoral care, comfort, food, and shelter. Their leaders and members are not separate from the suffering. They too have lost homes, relatives, and rest. And yet they carry on, working late into the night to meet the needs of others.

The toll is immense. Responders are hypervigilant, traumatised, and exhausted. The ground beneath their feet no longer feels solid. Bridges and airstrips are damaged, roads cut off. Supplies are hard to move. Communication is patchy. Coordination becomes critical — not just to get things done, but to ensure no one is forgotten or overwhelmed.

In Myanmar, as elsewhere, we pray for strength. For wisdom among national leaders and humanitarian actors. For comfort to reach the traumatised. For churches to remain steadfast in their ministry of presence and peace. And for the aftershocks — physical and emotional — to be few.

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”
— Psalm 46:1