We've had a chat with whanau in Christchurch this morning, and although they've escaped relatively unscathed from yesterday's quake, you could hear that shock is setting in. They didn't sleep at all last night; their house was constantly moving gently, and at times, less gently. They stayed downstairs, because the thought of going to be upstairs and facing another night like the one before was too much to consider.
That's caused us to reflect a bit. We had originally planned to go to Christchurch this weekend. We would have flown down Friday night. For the first time ever, we're kind of glad that work commitments kept us home. On the other hand we're not. We'd love to be there; to be able to hug and comfort our family (on both sides).
We're off to chucrh soon where we will praise God that there were so few injuries and pray for His comfort to those whose lives were literally picked up and shaken 28 hours ago. But we'll also be wondering why. Perhaps when we get home we'll pull out Philip Yancey's excellent book When God doesn't Make Sense. Anyway, blogging seems unimportant this morning in the great scheme of things. We might have some more coherent thoughts later in the day.
Oh, and a very Happy Fathers' Day to all the dads out there. And Dad; 21 years on, we still miss you.