I am writing you from the almost mythical streets of Kathmandu.

Ornately carved pillars that seem to have been here forever line the streets, alongside modern malls and Nepal’s superior version of Starbucks, Himalayan Java. It has been a blur of days and nights since the incomprehensible floodwaters fell from the heights of the Himalayas and crawled down the valleys of the Nepali mountains like an angry, unstoppable monster. In an instant, it transformed a beautiful and peaceful mountain river, lined with lush green foliage and speckled with mountain rocks, into a raging beast the size of small parts of the Mississippi. When the water abated, all that remained was a thick, grey sludge that resembled freshly poured concrete and mountains of heartbreak.

Everything that makes these mountains beautiful: houses, farms, markets, streets, bridges, grass, trees, stone, and, above all, beautiful, peaceful, hard-working people, was swept away and carried into the past. Thousands were instantly gone.

Just gone. There’s no other way to say it.

I was in Houston, TX, when I heard the report. The Lord has been dealing with my heart about being more available to his instant call, so I had just finished writing a sermon about being available for the Lord. Then, almost as if it were scripted, my phone started blowing up with images of the flash flood and debris flow eating its way through my beloved Nepal.

“Are you ready?” said the Spirit. Instantly it all clicked into place. I shook my head, realizing, once again, that nothing catches the Lord by surprise. He had even led us to save some of our normal giving this year, so the initial travel cost and first batch of relief would already be supplied.

“Here am I,” said I.

And I was booking tickets and hotels, arranging supplies and funding, and texting and emailing supporters. Our team and friends in Nepal scrambled as well, arranging supplies and trucks and assembling a team with impressive agility.

The response was impressively quick. The flood happened on Wednesday, August 26. I landed in Kathmandu on Sunday. When I arrived, our team, along with our on-the-ground partner, The Nepal Anglican Society, had the first trucks packed and ready. I got up hours before the sun, shrugged off jet lag, slid on my new yellow disaster relief vest, and headed into the mountains to those most affected.

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Our first stop was Galchi, a lower-lying area home to some of the poorest people hit by this disaster. For roughly 80 kilometers—about 50 miles—the flood tore its way down the Himalayan river corridor from the Tibetan border toward Galchi. It took about an hour and forty-five minutes to rip this community to shreds. Because of how long it took the flood to reach the area, the people were able to get a warning, and all the lives were spared – but their homes were not. They lost everything, including the house they were in. And to make things worse, the houses that were spared were filled with mud, feet deep.

On our first day, we completed four humanitarian deliveries to four different parts of Galchi. We gave rice, blankets, cooking supplies, hygiene items, and more to different groups, many of which were still covered in mud from the flood days before. We noted their greatest needs and set our team to gathering the supplies needed for future deliveries.

Our next delivery took us deep into the Himalayas to some of the hardest-hit areas. We hired two small trucks to navigate the rough roads while the team packed into a third Land Rover.

We had no idea the difficulties we would face.

Once we left the main road and began to climb, we encountered our greatest hindrance and foe: the roads. Lying in wait to stop anyone who would dare attempt the journey north were feet-deep mud trenches covering the already rainy-season-strained dirt roads, which themselves were victims of the floods. We endured stop after stop after stop, digging out buried tires and gathering random villagers to push. At times, I could see no way forward, then dozens of Nepalis would appear out of nowhere, sometimes with a large dump truck, and we would soon be on our way. Back home, our prayer team repeatedly responded with intense prayer, and each time, those prayers were answered.

Unfortunately, however, our first trip was eventually stopped by our drivers, who themselves were too scared to continue. So we stored the supplies in a safe place along the way and contacted some seriously skilled mountain drivers to finish what the first could not.

Eventually, we reached our destination.

I cannot overstate this next sentence. The damage was beyond what I expected. In 2005, I worked the Christmas Day Indonesian tsunami relief. Later that year I worked the 8.7 earthquake in Nias. In August of that same year, I worked the Hurricane Katrina relief effort. Later, I worked the Nepal Earthquake relief.

I have seen disaster, and yet, other than the Tsunami, which is by far the worst disaster I have ever seen, nothing has come close to the damage I see on the ground here in Nepal. It feels surreal. The tsunami I get: the ocean invaded the earth. This disaster, however, is hard to compute. As I stared at the damage, the only word that came to mind was, “How?”

How could so much water come so fast? It is truly mind-boggling.

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Once we reached the villages, the reports were awful. One young man shared with me how he had to carry his paralyzed father for fifteen minutes uphill to try to get away from the water. Another woman told our team that she had lost nine of her relatives, her house, her farm, and she, as hard as she had tried, was unable to save her grandchild when the water came.

In this village, there had been one hundred and fourteen (114) houses swept away. Also, as it was near the China border, it was a major market where people brought goods from China to resell. Now, there is no hint that there was ever a market in existence, minus a few remaining foundations and a few scraggly buildings still standing, although they are gutted, partially buried, and forever unlivable.

As we stood briefly (for the threat of another flood was always present at this time), I was taken back to twenty years ago in Indonesia. The smell of death was everywhere, revealing a truth that gets caught in the throat. This new riverbank, hundreds of yards wider than the original, is a graveyard. Thousands of people are missing, and as the days carry on, every single person who is found alive is celebrated. Sadly, those reports have ceased over the past few days. Now, seeing the helicopters coming and going, dangling black body bags, is no longer shocking.

Our supply drop was cooking tools. After many requests, I made a request for donations to buy pots, pans, knives, and other things the villagers could use to prepare the food that was being delivered daily. A very generous giver met that request and supplied all we needed to provide hundreds of families with the ability to eat. We also supplied more hygiene needs, as disease is a major looming threat after disaster, especially water disasters. We worked with the local leaders to get these supplies to those in the greatest need, and yet when we arrived, only half were present to receive. We asked where they were and were told they were either ashamed to come because of such grief or were working in the rescue operations. Slowly, however, they came and showed an unnecessary gratitude through blank eyes and wounded souls.

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After our distribution, we gathered in a small local church. This pastor led the response in this area, opening his tiny church and home so forty-three families had a place to eat and sleep. It was crowded, with relief supplies slowly filling the entire porch area. What a witness!

What’s more, fourteen years ago, when we first started working in Nepal, these little churches deep in the Himalayas did not exist. The pastor had started his church here to help finish the Great Commission. His preaching of the Gospel was met with anger, and many local people persecuted him viciously. Then, a few years ago, he brought a medical team in to care for the village. Now, during the worst days of their lifetime, this little church is caring for the very families that treated the pastor’s family so terribly. This has shifted the people’s mistaken opinions. By loving those who made themselves his enemy, this precious pastor has won many over and is now a respected member of society, doing great good for the people he serves.

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At this point, our mission became crystal clear. Get the needed supplies to the affected people as fast as possible to help them survive and stay healthy until they can think about rebuilding their lives. Clothing, food, blankets, dishes, tents, water purification. Drop after drop, trip after trip. Often our days started around 4 a.m. and ended around 10 p.m.

As of writing this post, we have provided humanitarian aid to 739 families. The Nepali people have a very long road ahead. Obstacles are many. Yet, I have witnessed them pick up the rubble of their lives after the 2015 earthquake and piece it back together. They will. They are resilient, strong, and kind, and they have help.

That help has been you.

Every time we appealed for support, you came through. You gave sacrificially to serve a people you will never meet in a disaster that does not affect you. And for that, on behalf of the Nepali people, I say, Thank You.

In Matthew 25, Jesus tells the story of the day of judgment. In this parable, the Lord is judging His people. He says…

Matthew 25:34-40 (ESV)
34 Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

My friends, when you have taken care of these, you have taken care of Jesus. He takes it so personally. You may not realize it now, but you have earned rewards in heaven. These rewards are stored up and will not rust or be lost. They are eternal.

God bless each and every one of you for your donations, encouragement, sharing our posts, and texting and calling. It means the world to us. Our relief effort continues into at least next week. We have many more tents to deliver. We also have a package of water filters and beds to take to one particular village. They have been sleeping on the ground in their tent, and snakes have become a major problem. We want to help them get off the ground so they have one less thing to worry about.

I’ll keep you in the loop. I am so grateful for all of you. May God bless you!

All to Jesus,
Dustan Elliot Stanley

P.S. You can still give by clicking here.

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