My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
God's People
These are people who know the reality of what they feel. They have no need to hide in aloofness and reserve, and know the myth of strength is no more than that. They believe what is felt is to be openly expressed for all to see and hear. Tears are as real as laughter, and all that is good. They live their lives out in the open and permit all a chance to be brothers. They have faults which complete their humanity, but more than anyone else, I think they are God's people. They have his heart.
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