My beloved John the Beloved : ) Rendered in Dürer's steady hand, John wastes away in his mystical solace, shipwrecked, as it were, on the isle of Patmos. An eagle comforts him. Who can make sense of his Revelations? Alas, not I. However, this:
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear: because fear has torment. He who fears is not made perfect in love.
I have cried many happy tears over this verse. Who knew that a crazy old man from prehistoric time would speak to me, a child of gen-x?
I've thought about this verse for 10 years, and finally it's become a more
and more consistent practice. Thank you for your folly. If I were there, I'd kiss your dusty foot. Meanwhile, farewell.