In the Water of Galilee

The Agent, the Word of Creation, even Jesus, stepped to the shore, and looked upon the watery expanse. The sun, a golden disk, playfully hopscotched across the water’s waves for His pleasure. He, humankind’s best Friend, and Savior, had walked upon those waves, waves that yielded to His Word.

The water of Galilee beckoned to its Maker, cool and inviting, and He, seeking respite, waded in. Now, as the sun dipped low, He shed His dusty sandals and robe and waded in. The water of Galilee embraced Him, cradling His weight, and He floated, He swam, arms outstretched, eyes closed. The world blurred: the crowds, the questions, the exceeding weight of divine mission. And yea gracefully, peacefully, He floated and swam. There, in the water of Galilee, divinity and dust floated and swam together, the water holding Him, holding Him close, and it delighted to do so, gurgling in delight. He laughed a sound of approval, a sound like sweetest birdsong.

He emerged, the water of Galilee streaming from His hair, whilst golden sun dipped low kissed His blessed face. He stepped onto the shore, looked again upon the watery expanse, and the water of Galilee waved goodbye. But a brief respite. Onward from there, a difficult path, that of a suffering Savior to a Cross, to a Cross for His friends. Thus to be embraced, cradled, very weight of divine mission embraced, embraced and cradled, by a Cross. There, with arms outstretched, with eyes closed, closed one last time, the world was changed for His friends, it was blurred, was forever blurred, by eternal heaven above.