The mountains cut the sky like a butcher's knife dismembered a lamb. We halted. Moses stopped by the one where he said he saw the bush on fire. The mountain roared with clouds and thick darkness, like the darkness we could nearly touch back in Egypt. We could not touch it, or let our animals touch it, or we'd be shot dead with an arrow. No way did I want to go near that mountain, where clouds and fire raged. I saw a sapphire pavement, darker blue, and harder than the sky could ever be. Trumpets sounded. But they weren't our trumpets. I peed my pants and hid inside our tent, but there was no hiding. I felt the presence bearing down through the fabric. I could not hide. Please make it stop. My mother wrapped me up in her arms. I could feel her heart beating fast. I buried my head in her bosom. She smelled of cooking smoke and sweat and roses. But she didn't stop my terror. I climbed down and started pawing through the dirt with my bare hands, like I'd seen the dogs dig for rodents. I wailed for the earth to cover me. My mother pulled me up. I felt her breathe in. Breathe out. Trying to calm. How could she, when she was just as frightened? It was so hot.
So timely, so majestic. What a journey. I love how you take stories from Biblical history and bring them home to us. That's how it feels, like you have crossed the borders of time and place, you have lived within the story, and shared it with us.
Excellent, as always!
So timely, so majestic. What a journey. I love how you take stories from Biblical history and bring them home to us. That's how it feels, like you have crossed the borders of time and place, you have lived within the story, and shared it with us.