I've been underwater all week with the combination of a cold, worries and the kind of tiredness that comes from your heart and makes your bones heavy.
My 17 year old has me reading Les Misérables this month. Hint, don't read Les Mis. when you are bone weary. It won't help. I opted to endure my daughter's literary scorn and read The Power Of Six instead. I also read Disappointment With God, by Yancey.
Power Of Six- who writes in all present tense? Oh, Pittacus Lore. Nothing like blowing up some aliens and enduring some poorly thought out anti-catholic sentiments that are quickly followed by fatalistic philosophy- also poorly developed. I did enjoy the blowing up of the aliens, but I'm deep like that...
Disappointment With God, though it had not a single sword or ray gun, was surprisingly uplifting. The main thing I took away from the book was that I either believe God or not. I either believe he is, and by definition he loves, or I don't.
I, an almost yuppie, who loves to over-analyze everything could get used to the freedom of not having to figure everything out.
On Wednesday my 5 year old asked me if there would be hospitals in heaven. He looked worried when I told him no. He looked radiant when I explained why there would be no hospitals.
The radiance of a child's faith.