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N ear the Son of Man, you cannot escape being witness to remarkable things. How these things are perceived tell a story. They prescribe the life of the perceiver. Small things, everyday things take on special quality, the special remarkable character of shaping a life lived close to him. So I ask myself, “How is my life so contoured?” Painfully, I am like Asher, I must deal with my evil heart. Yet despite my flaccid spirituality, at his voice my bones strengthen, my happy animus sings once again. To be near him, to hear him breathe, to reach out and touch him, I resonate in his presence. I become a remarkable thing.
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