You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea. Micah 7:19
Miriam sang to them: “Sing to the LORD, for he is highly exalted. Both horse and driver he has hurled into the sea.” Exodus 15.21
“There is life there,” he said as he sliced the branch with his pocketknife like he were shucking a cob of corn. He shook off the rotted wood flesh and the flaky bark and let it blow away, swirl down into the stream away toward the sea. “God, do I love the ocean.”
“Why?” Wren squinted up through his grassy hair.
“It’s big. And it means I Forget. Every old thing it forgets, nice and clean. All’s left is the sands.”
Wren had never seen sand before, but once, he recalled, Mumford had said it shone: like fresh, baby moons. Wren very much wanted to see the seashore.
Amica Mea Stuff 