“…It is in the shape of an oval, wider at the top than at the bottom. It lies in that great rift in the earth’s surface in which the Jordan valley runs, and the surface of the Sea of Galilee is 680 feet below sea level. The fact that it lies in this dip in the earth’s surface gives it a very warm climate and makes the surrounding countryside phenomenally fertile. It is one of the loveliest lakes in the world. In The Land and the Book, W.M. Tomson describes it: ‘Seen from any point of the surrounding heights it is a fine sheet of water—a burnished mirror set in a framework of rounded hills and rugged mountains, which rise and roll backward and upward to where [Mount] Hermon hangs the picture against the blue vault of heaven.’”
I keep seeing their faces—that small group of survivors I spoke to around the table at the Stroke Support Group last night. I keep seeing their faces—wounded and beautiful—and this morning I am thinking about how this is the way Jesus sees us all. This morning in my Advent journey through Matthew, I read about how he called the fishermen: Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John; and those eager faces around the table last night keep returning to me. In his commentary, Barclay talks about how Jesus can do anything with ordinary men and women who give him themselves and I think about the stories we shared last night and I am taken by the gemstones of courage nestled into the setting of an ordinary life.
Wounded and beautiful. That’s me.
I am thinking about Jesus’ ability to see beauty when Barclay begins describing the Sea of Galilee. It is small, he says. So small that Luke, in his writings, never called it a “sea”. He always referred to it as a “lake.” But he goes on to say:
This is the place Jesus chose for his ministry. This place of beauty nestled into a crack in the earth. And it occurs to me that this is an apt description for the way he brings out the beauty in each of us: he hangs our picture “against the blue vault of heaven.”
That’s how I want to see. He makes all things beautiful.
With Emily today: