“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth."
I can see Him there. Standing. Worn carharts and a wool plaid shirt with elbow patches to cover the holes from years of wear. Feet planted firmly in the dust, in work boots and thick wool socks, standing on the edge of it all before there was an edge.
His hair is short, graying, with plenty of salt and pepper. His hands are in His pockets, but you can see the wrinkles. And a split, bruised thumbnail on His right hand. I wonder how it happened.
And though I cannot see His face, there is the hint of a profile. Enough to see deep lines radiating from the corner of His eye, scored deep into skin from years in the sun, from years of smiling. Before there were years. Before there was sun.
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