The Phnom Penh International Church of Christ is helping the victims’ families in the deadly disaster in which close to 400 died and more are injured. Last night, in coordination with other relief workers, 1000 meals and bottles of water were distributed to different hospitals where family members await word on their loved ones. The note below is a personal account from Cindy Fetherman who recently moved with her husband Don from Guam to Cambodia where Don serves as the CFO of the Sihanouk Center of Hope Hospital.
Jesus wept. – John11:35
Sadness covers the city like a blanket.
Less than 36 hours ago, the news started trickling in. Hundreds would be dead a few hours later. The cause: internal injuries and asphyxiation. At the end of festivities marking the celebration of the rainy season, ironically called the Water Festival, the last words of most of the people who died were, “Please give me some water.” Some of these requests came in gasps, from people barely able to breathe because they were caught in a stampede.
I walked around the house yesterday feeling numb. How do hundreds of people die in a matter of a couple of hours? Most of the dead are the young—pre-teens, teens, young singles that had just come from a free concert.
I cried. I didn’t know where the tears were coming from and I was crying for no one in particular. All the disciples are safe but … hundreds of lives are suddenly changed. Parents lost children. Children lost parents. I cried for their lost future. The Prime Minister went before the country, humbled by the circumstances he finds himself in, unable to prevent the sorrow that was slowly taking a grip in the country. It is a devastating blow to any one spirit.
There is a feeling of helplessness that pervades inside me. I cannot do anything. I am not a health professional. I am not a relief worker. All I can do is contribute money for supplies. I can do that from anywhere in the world. But God put me here—right in the middle of the city. People are warned against going to places because of the number of the dead. Preventing outbreaks and contamination is a real concern. What am I supposed to do?
So I prayed. I cried out to God. I want to do something. Yet again, I find myself at His mercy. There are things I cannot fix, many that I cannot do anything about. But living here makes that more apparent to me. So my cry comes from deep within, “My God, have mercy.”
I cuddled with my children a little longer last night, grateful for our health and safety when so many others have lost so much. I felt uncomfortable in my air-conditioned room, unable to sleep, when so many are sitting on pavements outside government hospitals, waiting to identify loved ones, unable to comprehend what they had just lost.
This morning, the headline of a major daily read, “The Mourning After.” And what a morning it was. Traffic was unusually quiet. Where there would normally be the incessant honking of horns that marks a working day, the streets were quiet. People spoke in hushed tones. I couldn’t speak of what happened without tears coming to the surface.
I have been here for four months. Most days have been very challenging—personally, emotionally but most of all, spiritually.
I have prayed many times to love Phnom Penh like I love Guam. So when the tears start flowing, I now understand where they are coming from. I have fallen in love. And I am mourning among people who have embraced me and love me. God has heard my cry for mercy.
Sadness covers the city like a blanket today. My city. And God will grant mercy—again.
There is more relief work to be done. Your generosity and your prayers are appreciated. If you are able to help, please go to www.hopeww.org
