Susan LaffertyNew covenant.
Not like before. When glory shone on the mountaintop, obscured by clouds. Or in the tabernacle’s Holy of Holies, behind the veil.
Or the time glory filled the temple and no one could enter.
No, something changed.
Helpless?
Frail. Weak. In steady decline.
Yet held.
Cradled in the hands of
the One who holds stars–
and hearts, too.
Resting in the shadow
of the Almighty.
Without lenses, the world is one blurry shape after another for me.
Muted colors. Fading edges. Always a curious guess as to what they are.
And along the way, signs I cannot read.
So I move through. Blind in the blur.
