- Transfigured
Sometimes we can see what will be before it can be. We sense it.
Hear it in the wind. Feel it on our skin. And then it goes – and we
cry out – outraged that it is not yet. We mourn. And there must
needs be a Gethsemane. A Calvary. A death to which we turn and a
resurrection to the new. Then the moment of knowing – the flash of
light transfigured – not a trick of the sun in our eyes, but a
promise – it lives. We know. In that other moment, we were
transfigured.
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