A dead dolphin washed ashore last week on a section of the beach I rarely walk. This morning I revisited his carcass where only the skeletal form remained. I mourned his passing, but discovered to my surprise that his shoulder bones were perfectly shaped wings, complete with serrated edges that duplicate birds’ wings. No wonder he jumped high into the air, seeking both that world and his own more familiar water-world. No wonder he sought air to breathe, for his skeleton proved the wings that once supported his aquatic form. Perhaps this cheered me because I too feel sometimes strangely out of place, as if I had a home once some where else. Perhaps like that dolphin I too have wings that form my skeletal support, wings that can lift my spirit, wings that can transport me, wings that can help me soar. If I have God within me, then these are His traces, these visible wings that internalize an angel lurking beneath my flesh. Thank you, Lord, for the wings you give me and all living things, the wings you implant when You enter our hearts and minds. May I use these wings to transcend my own earthly limitations and help lift others to knowledge of You. Amen.
Another dense, foggy day. Everything seems unsubstantial. How strange the world looks, so soft and fuzzy, when I know from experience that it is hard and firm. I hear