Intrusions of grace…
Our age not only does not have a very sharp eye for the almost imperceptible intrusions of grace, it no longer has much feeling for the nature of the violences which precede and follow them.
··· Tags pointing to: reality ···
It’s my belief that sanity lies in realizing that reality is not exactly what we had in mind.
Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he has been robbed.
The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, and most jobs are more often dull than otherwise…
Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.
The great majority of mankind are satisfied with appearances as though they were realities.
Because If You Can Convince Me
Because if you can convince me, then suddenly your beliefs become more real. Right? The more people you can get to jump on your … train, the more your mission is made. So until you get me to swallow your world and believe what you believe, you’ll never have the kind of faith you want to have. You’ll always have a little bit of doubt. You’ll never know if you’re quite right. You’ll always kind of be wondering if it’s real.
Virtual: Something that you think you have, but you don’t.
Transparent: Something that you don’t know you have, but you do.
Valentine
Not a red rose or a satin heart.
I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.
Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.
I am trying to be truthful.
Not a cute card or a kissogram.
I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.
Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.
All my life false and real, right and wrong tangled.
Playing with the moon, ridiculing the wind, listening to the birds…
Many years wasted seeing the mountain covered with snow.
This winter I suddenly realize snow makes a mountain.
Too much sanity may be madness, and the maddest of all: to see life as it is and not as it should be.
That the world is, is the mystical.
The mystery of life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.
I am certain everything is gift.
I am certain we are entitled to nothing.
I am certain the wells for pain and joy are not separate.
I am certain bitterness and healing are a choice.
I am certain that running from your darkness leads to greater darkness.
I am certain the darkness is held ultimately by light.
I am certain that the words from scripture “In Him we live and move and have our being” are not poetic, they are actual physical reality.