I rarely hear the sound bones cracking, breaking, and shattering. I find that my heart falls harder each time I happen to hear it. When one is the force driving the events that in turn cause the sound, the sense of despair, and need for hope, looms even larger.
Parnassia is a great beach on the northern Holland coast. From Sandpoort, it is a great 30-minute bicycle ride through a national park. Your cruise provides a gentle experience that takes you through the pines and out onto the scrub covered pines. Winds whisper in the tops of the trees, each tree singing in a slightly different key, while the swales protect you as you ride. Safety-tape marks quick sand so you keep the stray riders. The greens, browns, and grays blend effortlessly as the time passes as if it did not start.
Yesterday 10 headed back to the coast. Only eight returned. One ended up in hospital with doctors, nurses, x-rays, and cat scans as his alternative to a dinner in Haarlem. The memories and impact of the day will live with everyone present for a long time to come.
The specifics are not what find themselves etched into my mind. It is the response of people to excruciating pain, adversity, and difficult challenges. I find myself working with a group of people who stand strong. I know that “the stuck-up falls flat on their faces, but down-to-earth people stand firm.” (Proverbs 11.2) I rarely have the opportunity to be part of a larger group who so clearly and eloquently are able to demonstrate what God continues to do in their lives.
Today is a fresh start with a new framework. One is taking an emergency flight home to face surgery and his anxious family. Others continue to pursue the tasks at hand while their hearts and thoughts are with those troubled.
Because of one's pain, we are forever changed. I reflect on what God did for me, the cracking, breaking, and shattering of His body, and I cannot see today as I saw yesterday. Parnassia.
