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Lord, you have come to the shoreline

May 1, 2009 | posted by Lars under costa rica, reflections, updates

Last summer, shortly after we both graduated from EMU, a good friend of mine went to Costa Rica for three months.  He had a job as a nurse lined up for the fall in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania and he wanted to learn some Spanish so he could care for his patients who wouldn’t be able to speak English.  He had been there the summer before, briefly, with the EMU cross cultural program, and had met a missionary couple with a goat farm who he arranged to live and work with for the summer.  On a beach outing to the Pacific while there, though, he drowned.  It’s difficult to articulate exactly how deeply Matt’s death rocked his communities, but the grief was searing.

Two weeks ago, as we passed through Costa Rica, we had the opportunity to visit the farm where Matt lived and worked, high in the mountains between San Isidro del General and the Pacific Ocean.  The 7 km (4.2 miles) between the main road and the farm are, by far, the most rugged riding of our trip so far (we had to walk our bikes back down the mountain), but arriving there was beautiful.  We arrived after dark, drenched in sweat and several skintones darker with dirt, and it was as if we were entering another world.  I at once felt comfortable and at home, eating supper with Gerardo & Helen, conversing quietly, and washing the grime from my tired body.  We spent the evenings chatting in the house by intermittent light from the hydroelectric generator (we were visiting at the end of the dry season) and enjoying the peace of the evening stillness, and the day milking goats, hiking around the property, learning about the farm, and catching up on journalling.

It is an incredibly beautiful place, and Gerardo & Helen are at least as beautiful of people.  There was a very tangibly restful atmosphere there, which was such a relief from the touristy beat of Costa Rica.  It was a peace, I think, borne of a deep and easy connection to the land - a rootedness, if you will - that resembles, somewhat, a marriage.  Each is committed to the other for the long haul, and the chafing of trying to leave the farm behind and ”make something of yourself” is absent.  I’m gushing.  It was an oasis to be there, and I am thankful for it. I hope the pictures can describe this better than I am able.

As we left, we made our way back down the mountain and to the coast, stopping briefly at Las Ventanas, a little, rock-edged cove, lined with coconut palms.

That day, I had two songs rolling through my mind as I rode - “Señor, tú has venido a la orilla” (a hymn Gerardo & Helen remember Matt singing), and “Joy in the Journey,” sung by Full Table.