She glows...
with a beauty I
cannot explain.
She smiles...
and it's like the
sun shines through.
She laughs...
and the sound is
like ocean-spray.
She whispers...
and I hear the
whistling wind.

Where does she find her
glorious,
radiant
light?
Why does nothing seem to
touch her?
Why is she not
afraid?
She is unmarred
by the opinions of
the world, she loves
to love and hates
bitterness.
Why is she so
different?

Yet, there...
in her face I see
a trace of sorrow...
despair?
The sea-blue of her
eyes hold deeper
meaning than first glance.
She is touched with pain.
Suffering has been hers.
And up again
she has risen—
by some power beyond
our own
I cannot understand.

Then I see her
walking on the
sandy shores...
He is with her.
He is breathing into her,
molding her
and making her
what nothing can compare.
Her body,
limp,
rests on His arms—
He upholds her.
He is radiant...
His light is
glorious.
His face is
pure.
She looks to Him,
humbled in her state of
weakness.
He reaches down
gracious and
forgiving.
She has died...
He has made her
alive.

In Him.

Her laughter is...
full of
warmth.
Her smile is...
beautiful.
Her whisper is...
gentle.
Her heart is...
kind.
Her life is...
His.