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.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
We Belong In This World
In Acts, the disciples are asked why they are standing looking at heaven. The looking and waiting will not make the Lord return. The gazing upward in anticipation might in fact slow the process, and it is a suggestion applicable to all of us. Looking up, or down, has little effect no matter how appealing it may appear. Nor is waiting for revelation likely to produce one. Scratching our heads is not much of a key. What answers there are, are in the world around us. This world is the one in which we live. It is where we belong.
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