Same job, different uniform.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

I've said it before: he is a wordsmith. A doctor and a father and a lot of other serious and wonderful things, he writes too, but I only understand a fraction of it. When I do, I feel like I've been let in on a wonderful secret.

Some recent gems:

It was not Paris that made it good. It was the souls I have learned to love so well that made Paris a place of joy that day. When we travel, we must not forget to pack love. This is the beginning of pilgrimage.

and

Since then I have been thinking alot about revolutions. Not the bloody, political kind. The real ones that happen, large and small, in the hearts of men.

and

It is not what one believes. Or what one thinks, what one has been taught to think...It is what one wants, what one desires.

Here a living soul raises a face, here we raise our hand, fingers spread, palm upward, reaching because we would, future subjunctive, receive...and find, wholly surprised and wholly expected, our palm pressed tight against a scarred and pulsing Presence, a Hand which begins a new world by wiping away our tears.

That last one reminds me of a sermon by Carl Durham. "The battle for the Christian life is won or lost in our desires." If we don't want Christ, and of course that desire waxes and wanes, but if we don't want Christ, then what does it matter what we do?


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3 Comments:

Blogger travelin' said...




Excellent. Most excellent this reading was. Who's the doc?

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

 
Blogger Ibid said...




MY DAD

Thursday, May 11, 2006

 
Blogger travelin' said...




lucky you! :)

Friday, May 12, 2006

 

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