Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you.
We don't recognize the bright shapes passing overhead nor clearly ourselves as we stump along the bitter ground, enfolding burdens at our side, trailing our one wing in the dirt or flapping it desperately.
We are not all birds with one wing. We are moths with one wing, beautiful dragonflies with one transparent wing, majestic eagles who strike fear into little ones with our talons, our beaks, our one wing.
Isn't there another wing? Something in us knows. We search, we steal, we build them, glorious and strong and false, we bind another to us whole, or sever wings and strap them on, or lop the first for symmetry.
But all of us should have two wings. Where is the other one? The beauty, the balance, the natural lift and soar and fearless grace?
It is here. Let me touch you. It is here. Let me look at you. It is here.
Deep Blessings, Pastor Steve
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