The colors of sea and sky meet the horizon, and volcanic ash, hardened into lava formations, rises in sharp cliffs and spreads in vast fields. Breezes turn into winds as white caps on high surf pound the gentle shore, thundering, thundering, thundering…
Life merges into death, as the ancient world collapses into ash, and the new world faces middle age, seeing its own aging, its own death, its own new life.
John 1:1-14 – “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the word was God.” Here, all creation celebrates the Creator, the Word moving over the waters.
We swim, careful not to be pulled out to sea by powerful currents. We walk, careful not to stumble on the sharp rock. We cover ourselves, wary of the sun burning our skin. We know we are witness to the glories of the created world, and testify as well to the deadly. It is a beautiful world but one oblivious to man, a world bent by Adam, corrupted by Eve, yet redeemed by Christ for those who believe.
Our bodies crumble, age, turn to ash as we begin this Lenten season, watching the children play in the shallows.
And on Ash Wednesday my little book, Offerings, was awarded finalist in the Reader Views Literary Awards. We wait now for March 12 to find out the placing – 1st, 2nd or Honorable Mention.
I am immersing myself in the Gospels, those first-century accounts of the Son of God’s time on earth, and reading about Mary Magdalene, as I move slowly through the new words of my new manuscript, The Magdalen Melody. ”The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us…” I pray that His Word will dwell among mine, as I engraft John’s witness on my heart, into my mind.