God creates us, mends us, makes us flourish, and gathers us in our place.
… when the storm cometh they shall be gathered together in their place …
Alma 26:6




I resist anything better than my own diversity,
And breathe the air and leave plenty after me,
And am not stuck up, and am in my place.
The moth and the fish eggs are in their place,
The suns I see and the suns I cannot see are in their place,
The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
Could it be said that all of our images of salvation must, in the end, be variations on this theme of creation mended and flourishing?
Jeffrey Vogel, All Manner of Things