Amy Manners
Press Service International
Amy is a Press Services International Columnist from Adelaide. She has a BA in Creative Writing and Screen & Media, and now works as a freelance photographer, videographer and writer. She was runner-up in the 2018 Basil Sellars Award. Her previous articles can be viewed here: http://www.pressserviceinternational.org/amy-manners.html
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Letting go
The river flows. A woman wades through reeds as she holds what is most dear to her close to her heart. She lays her baby in a papyrus basket. And lets go. He’s swept by the running waters into God’s plans and purposes, which are bigger than her own.
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Look at the stars, look how they shine for you
I’m washing dinner plates — my mind is tangled with concerns when I’m interrupted by a gentle inner nudging to walk outside. I rip off my rubber gloves, turn away from the soap suds and enter the cool night. It’s a short stroll to the ocean.
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The threads that bind us
I woke up the other day with an intense desire to knit. Perhaps it was the rain pattering on the roof that sparked the longing to create something cosy and warm. Or maybe I was inspired by the memory of my grandmother who taught me to knit with soft wool she’d spun herself from neighbour’s sheep.
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A Tribute
My grand-dad passed to Glory last week.
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Blue wonder: the Great Australian Bight
I hold my breath and take one stroke after the other as I coast over the seafloor. The flow of ocean currents have left a pattern imprinted on the sand, like corrugated tin.
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Lifted
“Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what’s going on around Christ — that’s where the action is. See things from His perspective.”
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When you have no prayers left
My toes dig into wet sand. I stand at the water’s edge and watch as a gentle breeze ripples through the silver ocean. I breathe in salty air, searching for the words, but I can’t find any. I have no prayers left.
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Road to Damascus (PSI Best of 2018)
On the road to Damascus, surrounded by mountains, lies a village soaked in cool air and dappled sunlight. Here, birds sing from olive trees that cast soft shadows over the courtyards of ancient monasteries.
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Christmas Day – now a new year beckons
Two thousand and eighteen years ago something happened that would change the trajectory of history forever. All our times are pin-pointed to this one significant event that we can’t erase from our collective memory, no matter how much we may try.
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From dust to gold
In your deep places, where your world is melted by fire; wedged into the rock of hard circumstances and hidden below the surface of what others see, yes even in your darkness — lies all that is precious to God.