George MacDonald

Nothing could explain both my current frustration and my current hope as well as this quote from Sir Gibbie:
"The one secret of life and development is not to devise and plan, but to fall in with the forces at work - to do every moment's duty aright - that being the part in the process allotted to us; and let come - not what will, for there is no such thing - but what the eternal Thought wills for each of us, has intended in each of us from the first. If men would but believe that they were in the process of creation and consent to be made - let the Maker handle them as the Potter his clay, yielding themselves in respondent motion and submissive hopeful action with the turning of His wheel, they would ere long find themselves able to welcome every pressure of that hand upon them, even when it was felt in pain, and sometimes not only to believe, but to recognize the Divine end in view, the bringing of a son into glory; whereas behaving as children who struggle and scream while their mother washes and dresses them, they find they have to be washed and dressed notwithstanding, and with the more discomfort; they may even have to find themselves set half-naked and but half-dried in a corner, to come to their right minds and ask to be finished."

Greyhound Angels

I'm thinking of doing something that I've wanted to do for a long time. I want to ride the Greyhound bus line around the country, encouraging anyone I can along the way. I realise that loving people, praying for people, listening to people is something I can and should be doing on a daily basis. It's something I can do anywhere, anytime. However it seems like the opportunities would be more focused on a long bus ride. Maybe it could be like a discipline, teaching me to listen to God and to see this world through His eyes.

Pinocchio

This past year I've felt a lot like Pinocchio. He wanted to become a real boy, I want to become a real girl. A real human. There is so much I don't know. Old married couples, parents, soldiers, those who've experienced the deep hurt, poverty or loss. I'm humbled in their presence and I assume they live lives of more significance. But C.S. Lewis said in The Great Divorce that even our strongest human loves are not holy in and of themselves. Most of my ideas and loves and sentiments are still so small. Almost like play-acting. So much that I take so seriously, that I pride myself on, is like a puppet version of what is true. It makes sense that we have to pass though death into the Spirit filled life in order to become real. I think in some ways it's a process. I'm tired of my own take on love, beauty, pain, sacrifice, work. I'm extremely tired of the criterion by which a judge and value people and events. I'm so relieved about His promise to make us real some day.

Here's a slightly unrelated quote from The Great Divorce. I've got to fight this tendency.
"Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from the love of the thing he tells, to the love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all, but only in what they say about Him."