Life from the Pit!

When I was ten years old, I lived in Pittsburgh, PA. Halfway across the country, in the same town my grandparents lived, a toddler fell into a well. Our country watched the events unfold in Midland, Texas, as Baby Jessica was saved. Two and a half days after she fell in, she was saved. Though everyone was joyful, there were some negative outcomes -- a partial amputation, many surgeries, and a rescue-worker's suicide. For some reason, that is the baby I thought of as the Chilean rescues were reported on the news.

I'll admit, I haven't followed the latest stories of the Copiapo mining accident; but I heard enough about it that the miners and their families have crossed my mind many times over the last two months. Seventeen days after the mine shaft collapsed -- probably after many loved ones had lost hope that anyone had survived -- the miners surprised the world with an note: "Estamos bien en el refugio los 33" -- The 33 of us in the shelter are well.

In case you haven't been following the story, here is a piece of the story as Wikipedia offers it:

Hours later, cameras sent down the bore hole made contact with the miners, taking the first images of the trapped workers. The miners had a 50 square meter shelter with two long benches, but ventilation problems had led them to move out to a tunnel. In addition to the shelter, they had some 2 km of galleries in which to move around. The miners used backhoes to dig for trapped water. Some water was obtained from the radiators of vehicles inside the mineshaft. Health officials are running tests on the water. Food supplies were limited, and the men may have lost 8 to 9 kg (17–20 pounds) each. Although the emergency supplies were intended for only two or three days, the miners rationed them to last for 17 days until contact with the surface. They consumed "two little spoonfuls of tuna, a sip of milk and a biscuit every 48 hours" and a morsel of peach.  They used the batteries of a truck to power their helmet lamps.

This morning, I read that eleven of the 33 miners have reached the surface after being trapped 2000 feet underground for the last ten weeks. Though the accident happened in Chile, the story and prayers have spread around the world, and the world is watching each of the men as they ascend the rock to the surface. The story is tragic -- these men have been stuck in a living tomb for two and a half months. But there may be a happy ending, and so far it looks hopeful. As I sat down to work on my Bible study this morning, I got sidetracked reading about these heros -- the ones doing the rescuing, the ones being rescued, the One they are thanking as they hold their families tight. 

I have never fallen into a well like Jessica McClure. I have not been trapped underground like the miners. But I have been through life-stages when it would be easier to give up. When I've been hurting so much, feeling so broken, or been numbingly exhausted that I wondered if I would ever be rescued. David called out to God, "Incline Your ear to me, rescue me quickly ; Be to me a rock of strength, A stronghold to save me." (Psalms 31:2). My inspirational hope is in God's words, "Call upon Me in the day of trouble ; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me." (Psalms 50:15) Those moments or days that I feel overwhelmed, I will cling to these passages, and I can't help but suspect that those men had to have had this kind of hope to hang on as long as they did.

Now, I continue to pray for the Chilean rescue mission. I pray that each of the men is returned safely to his family, and that their bodies, minds, and spirits are healed quickly. Furthermore, I hope and pray that this inspirational story, when it hits the shelves and theaters (and you know it will) brings glory to the One who saves.  "I descended to the roots of the mountains. The earth with its bars was around me forever, But You have brought up my life from the pit, O LORD my God." (Jonah 2:6)

... and as I wrote this, the twelfth has emerged and my eyes are misting again.

Lunchtime update -- 17!! as of 12:00pm CST