Tom Wadsworth, 27, from Huby, near York, who lives and works in Japan, tells of the “carnage of monstrous proportions” he witnessed when he visited a city flattened by the Japanese tsunami.

Today is a day that will forever remain in my heart and mind. A day perhaps similar in magnitude to one’s wedding day and probably the birth of one’s child, but the emotions attached to them are very, very different. We went to Sendai.

One day short of the one-month anniversary of the 9.0 magnitude earthquake and tsunami that battered Japan, a group of us from International Family Church, Takasaki, Gunma prefecture, travelled to Sendai and attended Seaside Bible Chapel’s first service since that fateful day.

The coastal city of Sendai, Miyagi prefecture and the surrounding area was at the forefront of international news coverage that followed the terrifying earthquake; helicopters had panned down showing the subsequent Tsunami that ripped through Sendai. Images that will remain with people for a long long time.

The church building itself, had been completely washed away. What remained, or what Pastor Naito had salvaged after the tsunami, was the cross which had been raised on to a large wooden mount. And that now, was the church, no walls, no windows, no roof, just a cross, logs and boxes down as pews and a guitar. We went armed with bibles, support, prayers and hope.

We left Takasaki at 6am, for the 300km journey north. The 21 members consisted of four nationalities and five languages, including Japanese sign. The mood, I guess, had a hint of nervousness. However worship songs were sang to raise spirits and prayers and testimonies were shared along the way. Silence and then more prayers followed as we drove through Fukushima prefecture, home to the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant.

As we drove through Sendai city, it became clear which of the two natural disasters had affected the city centre the most. Cracks in the road, raised pavements that had changed shape during the earthquake and badly damaged apartments and shopping centres were all visible. This was nothing, however, compared with the devastation that lay before us up ahead. It was only when we drove through the security check did we see the true magnitude of what had happened. Sheer and utter carnage of monstrous proportions. Boats, rooftops, apartments and cars, cars and more cars lay smashed, upside down and inside out. It wasn’t just the numbers; it was the state of them. The cars that we had seen on the television being thrown around like toy cars were now laid smashed to pieces, on, beside and in the ruins of buildings.

It felt like we had entered a movie set, a Hollywood blockbuster, end of the world type scenario except movie enthusiasts would have probably argued that this didn’t look “real enough” due to its unimaginable devastation, it was “too Hollywood”. As we drove through the rubble towards the church site, it was interesting to gauge the reaction of my friends, I could hear people sobbing, some in stunned silence, one man, almost laughing with amazement at the cars tossed around.

As expected, the church service was an emotional affair. The resilience of these people was overwhelming and a very humbling experience.

We held the church service and sang Amazing Grace. It’s only people with real faith that can stand and sing about praising God when everything has been taken from them. That was such a humbling experience for me. The most moving part of the service was when the Seaside Bible Chapel stood in a circle and our church held hands and surrounded them.

I watched as my wife, Sarah, and another lady hugged for a long time, no words were shared. There didn’t need to be. An embrace full of sorrow, but also hope.

I stood, after the church service, and looked around to take in the entire view.

We were literally a stone’s throw away from the sea. This part must have felt the full brunt of the tsunami. I tried to think what this place would have looked like, to put it into perspective for my family and friends who I would tell.

The plots and foundations of houses left indicated it far bigger than Huby, the village I was born. It was probably similar in size to Haxby and Wigginton.

As far as the eye could see, there was devastation; the land was completely flat, ruins upon ruins of houses, apartments and communities.

As we walked through the barren wasteland, on to the kitchen floor of one house, over a mattress of the next, I felt guilty as though I was intruding on someone’s property.

It was the household items that had been left behind that were the harrowing reminders of what we were walking on Our group, a non-profit organisation aims to travel back to Sendai and other places.

Our aim; to offer hope. Hope to the people whose lives have been changed forever. Hope that their lives will be slowly restored.

If anybody is interested in donating these people are desperate. Please visit fulllifechurch.org.uk