Stones, as you know and I know, are silent; stones keep their
peace. Restrained and taciturn. The Rock is ever quiet, age upon age in
perpetual silence, until the time comes for her to give birth. Then she will
scream; she will gasp and pant in pain. Restrained no longer, the stone screams
out and gives birth to the world.
Rain, and dew, and ice – oceans spring forth from her womb. A world of light and life. And what is more, she gave birth to me and to you. Yes. In her womb we have our life, we move, we have our being. We are her offspring. Or have you forgotten?
My mother is the stone that gave birth to the world. What is born of flesh is flesh. What is born of spirit is spirit. I am flesh and spirit and stone – like my mother.
Rain, and dew, and ice – oceans spring forth from her womb. A world of light and life. And what is more, she gave birth to me and to you. Yes. In her womb we have our life, we move, we have our being. We are her offspring. Or have you forgotten?
My mother is the stone that gave birth to the world. What is born of flesh is flesh. What is born of spirit is spirit. I am flesh and spirit and stone – like my mother.
Deuteronomy 32:18, Job 38:8, 28 – 29, Isaiah 42: 14, Acts
17:26 - 28
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