It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance – for a moment, or a year, or the span of a life – and then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire or light.
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The eve of Pentecost
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It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance – for a moment, or a year, or the span of a life – and then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire or light.