What We Will Be

Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when Christ is revealed, we will be like him. – 1 John 3:2-3 (NRSV) 

The tall crane was fishing, picking its unsteady way through marsh grass on rickety legs, its narrow head bobbing in and out on its long, curved neck like somebody’s idea of an Egyptian dancer at an ancient dinner show.  

The awkwardness was not lost on two bronzed boys who were watching. They made themselves cartoon cranes, awkward and angular. Strutting and bobbing, they made their way down the boardwalk to the wet sand and outgoing tide, hooting and pointing and shoving each other off balance as preteen boys do, all body awareness.  

At the end of the boardwalk, they turned and gave the crane a last derisive look. The bird was still there, still ridiculous. One of the boys picked up a stone and hurled it. It was wanton in the way children can sometimes be, finding pleasure in small cruelties.  

When the stone hit nearby, the startled crane ruffled, then lifted off. Its uprising altered the air. It rose like a god, vast and powerful, an arc of energy and grace. Soaring now, it shadowed the beach where two boys gaped, all drained of breath and still. 

Prayer
Holy God, we think we know who we are, who our neighbor is. But our beauty and theirs is mostly hidden. In your mercy, show us a glimmer from time to time, a gleam that will drain us of all derision and contempt. Render us stock-still before the glory of each other’s soaring flight.

About the Author
Mary Luti is a long time seminary educator and pastor, author of Teresa of Avila’s Way and numerous articles, and founding member of The Daughters of Abraham, a national network of interfaith women’s book groups.