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Jewels come in unexpected settings. Take Corinth in ancient Greece: more rock than mineral. Rocks piled into rude temples to designer gods. Rocks hewn out with curved grooves where heads were laid so necks could be severed. Rocks scattered down, a Roman highway to bring in refugees from across the world. Rocks propped up for businesses—and in one of these three diamonds glowed. These were not the jewels of vain display, but industrial diamonds, hard tools for work­­—three gems brought in from two other settings, shining with the pastel hue of otherworldly mystic Judaism and bright with the golden brocade of this-worldly Imperial Rome. Read more
The tears of those who love us gently water the cheeks of the earth. Another beautiful bloom turns into a wrinkled seed, they lament. Ah, a premature death, A premature life, Why must it be so? Read more
Shepherd, Instructor, Director. “Father, lead in righteousness. Read, teach, command. We have gone astray. Father, take the hand of the people. Read more
I am made differently from you. I have something inside of me you do not have, and can never have unless you hold me. Because of that tiny cradle of muscle and blood, I can sing to a baby before a baby is born and the baby will hear me. I am made differently from you. There is always a place in me waiting for new life to take root and grow. Eternity shines through the belly of mortality, the placenta of light shines, the cord of life thickens, and the baby begins water-dancing. I am made differently from you. The echo of life sings against your heart— memory in a bony rib. Read more
Like Mary waiting on Easter morningregretting a dream she thought was deadin a world whence God had seemingly fledleaving her weeping, perplexed, forlorn,but daring to ask “Where is the Lord?”and hearing at last the holy word, Read more
Behold a child is softly crying who will save a world lost and dying, the wooden trough where he is lain precursor to a cross of pain.     Read more
As night gives birth to a billion stars when day is gone darkness is ever destined to be the herald of dawn; out of a place where hope is not must hope be born. Read more
Forefoot, arch, then ball are held steamy in the moist cloth,  held with both hands by a woman in Oregon caring for a homeless man,  now shaved and fed. Read more
She holds His shoes in her hands. They are worn shoes, but the only clothes not stolen by Romans and priests and elders and everyone else who always wanted a piece of Him. But they cannot have Read more
I look at it every now and then. We both held Him. I and a grave share that honor. Read more

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