Today I skipped a flat rock into a creek. It bounced three times before hitting a boulder, then finally succumbed to gravity, plunging into the shallow stream.
Picking up the stone felt solid and unyielding to my fingers.
Conversely, as I dipped an index finger into the babbling brook, its coolness parted instantly, resistance scarcely noted.
Yet the flat stone, when thrown with force, could not penetrate the same water, that a moment before, had yielded to my gentle touch.
And so many a soul, lost in misery and sin, were condemned by their fellow travelers, only to have their words skip across the surface of a fevered brow.
Yet the gentle touch of grace, softened the troubled waters of their spirit, and found it gave way to love and mercy.