Wednesday, February 17, 2010

St. Helen takes a Man

Somewhere in this great white expanse a heart stopped beating.

I suspect it was a brave strong heart. We know he died in the cold, after his fall. In a split second his life went from triumphant, standing near the rim of a volcano he had climbed more than 70 times, to disaster when the edge gave way.

It's often like that - our lives can turn on a dime, on the head of a needle. Or we try something on the edge, risky, and it doesn't work out.

But every time a heart stops - whether for good or temporarily, it matters.

Today my heart leapt, a small hope, a tiny reminder of love. Embracing it, I was moved to small tears. What a sweet reminder that even when hope seems lost it can always be reborn... even when buried in the deep, breaktaking cold expanse.

May this man's soul rest in peace.

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