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, November 22, 2015
Inbetween Choices
There are a number of instances when the good is not great and the evil not all that bad. The choices are then less clear. There are also instances with good and bad on either side and so there is really no right choice and none that is wrong, just those that are painful.
Labels:
choices,
evil,
goodness,
uncertainty
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