One gift of God is what I would call “a burning burden of hope of redemption.” Redemption means to atone and make amends for a wrong done. All the world struggles under a burden of decay; paint peels, metal rusts, stone stains, trees die, mountains slide away, rivers flood, humans struggle. We rode around Asheville’s downtown yesterday and the streets were filled with tourists and Sunday strollers. Regularly interspersed with these revelers were those humans stumbling on the tight rope over the abyss. Youngsters un-bathed and straggling behind, laying on the streets playing funerary songs for alms, the old and hobbling over the edge, and those that were masked in age by the years put on by poverty. They sat abandoned beside rivers and in the refuge of civilization they collected to call home, they carried old packs, old carts and some were tied to cur dogs. A burning burden of hope of redemption rages in all things but none more so than those that, having nothing, still cling to the fringe, nails dug deeply in the edge of redemption while dangling over mortality.
No comments:
Post a Comment