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Brad Davis's avatar

When I turned fifty, I returned to competitive swimming and training for it. Problem: I was forty pounds overweight and all my other numbers were just as concerning. Self-judgment abounded. Yet though I was weak, easily winded, and slow, every day that I went swimming, the water received me unconditionally. Now in my seventies, having returned to some semblance of form, endurance, and speed, it is still the case: in the very here and very now of my bodily existence as a creature of God trying imperfectly to promote shalom in our deeply conflicted world, the water receives me unconditionally. (not a poem, obv)

Adrian P Conway's avatar

Longing song of the spring thrush piercing the stillness of dawn.

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