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.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
The Wonder In Others
He meets people in order to meet them, not to impress them or win them over, or even to overcome them in some competition where winning is only a way to stay ahead of loss. In this way he has the style of Brother Albert, who shared so much in such simple ways offering such wonderful aspects of God. The longer I knew Albert, the more I noticed a disinclination to talk about his own life, as though there were nothing to be said on that topic, especially when compared to the wonder he seemed to find in others.
Labels:
Brother Albert,
conversation,
God,
people,
simplicity,
wonder
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment