Peace That Rules
The Vision The dust of the marketplace settled thickly on Eliav's sandals, mirroring the unsettled dust in his heart. Around him, the cacophony of commerce roared – merchants hawking wares, buyers haggling, the clatter of coins a constant, grating reminder of what he felt he lacked. Eliav was a potter; his hands were skilled, and his creations were sturdy and beautiful. Yet, contentment was as elusive as a perfectly symmetrical vase on a wobbly wheel. The Pain He watched Reuben, the weaver, proudly display vibrant, expensive fabrics. He heard Matthias, the metalsmith, counting a heavy pouch of denarii. A familiar anxiety gnawed at him. Was his work enough? Would he provide? The future felt like unformed clay – shapeless and uncertain. Fear, that unwelcome guest, sat heavily in his soul. The Promise That evening, weary, Eliav sat beneath the olive tree in his small courtyard. The sun cast a rainbow across the sky, which he often tried to capture in his...
