When I was in high school and sometimes in college, what I used to call "reality" was so crushingly real that sometimes there appeared to be "nothing left, only death." Somehow, though, there was much more ahead, as there had been for countless others like me--and you. One of the great consolations that has come to me as I age is a sense of the deep, quiet patience of Goodness. It offers no promises, no banners announcing its schedule. Just a strange, quiet coming--and perhaps the hint of a half-smiling glance in our direction.
I was watching a squirrel this morning with a huge hickory nut filling his jaws, scurrying to bury it, comically proud of his treasure.
Assoc. Prof., Classics & World Religions; Director, DD Project at OU
When I was in high school and sometimes in college, what I used to call "reality" was so crushingly real that sometimes there appeared to be "nothing left, only death." Somehow, though, there was much more ahead, as there had been for countless others like me--and you. One of the great consolations that has come to me as I age is a sense of the deep, quiet patience of Goodness. It offers no promises, no banners announcing its schedule. Just a strange, quiet coming--and perhaps the hint of a half-smiling glance in our direction.
I was watching a squirrel this morning with a huge hickory nut filling his jaws, scurrying to bury it, comically proud of his treasure.
Assoc. Prof., Classics & World Religions; Director, DD Project at OU