DusKy

It is dusk. The hour of day when humanity heaves a collective sigh. For some, it is a sigh of contentment, at a day well spent. For others, it is a sigh of relief, for having gotten through the day. For others yet, it is a sigh of disappointment, at another day just like any other day.

Cyclone in Myanmar. Earthquake in China. News these days always put me in a strangely reflective mood. It’s a dissonance when I look at the faces of those who are broken, against programs about living the high life and where to splurge for the latest whatever.

It is dusk. Myanmar has finally agreed to receive international aid from its neighbouring countries. After 148 hours, a survivor buried in the rubble from the earthquake is miraculously still alive. For family and friends, I guess it is a sigh of joy. And a quiet acknowledgement that God must have played a hand in this somewhere.

Dusk. For me, it is a time of thanksgiving. For in gratitude, I found humility.