I'm reading a book. Well, I've actually got a few books that I'm reading at any given time, but one particular book that gets me through my work out on the stairmaster like nothin'. It's a memoir, or biography (what's the difference?) about G.K. Chesterton. So far, I really like the guy. G.K., that is. He's robust, brilliant, absent-minded, critical-thinking, and all heart. He is an artist, and that makes him most lovable to me. I'm not an artist, but there are some artists in my life that I love madly, and I'm hoping that knowing G.K. might help me love them better. Anyway, here is quote from G.K.:
"Though this world is the only world that we have known, or of which we could even dream, the fact remains that we have named it "a strange world". In other words, we have certainly felt that this world did not explain itself, that something in its complete and patent picture has been omitted. And Browning was right in saying that in a cosmos where imcompleteness implies completeness, life implies immortality."
Immortality. I've been thinking of my nieces - how they are more alive right now than I am. I'm wondering about heaven, and what it's like. And because I cannot fathom its perfection, and the One Who walks there, I am wishing my nieces were here. But this is the strange world, and I am thankful for the other, more complete, world to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment