Part XV
Lovey opened the door just a crack. The room was dark, and her shaft of light showed a cut out of the slope of Alaric’s back. He was still asleep. She crept back to her room, and sat down on the bed, pulling the covers over her lap. She reached for the pad and pen both inscribed with ‘The Green Fountain Inn’ in gold flowery lettering. The pen wouldn’t write. She traced it in circles on the edges of the paper until it produced a speckilish line.
My father is worth no more than a dead dog. Then, what am i worth. I am his daughter. Are we defined by our fathers?
She glanced at the Gideon Bible still laying open next to her on the bed.
“but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and on the children’s children, to the third and fourth generation.”
She stopped and held the pen close to her eyes for a moment, studying the words on it.
I have to admit, God came through for me today. my father and my love are still alive. But perhaps it wasn’t God who allowed it. Perhaps nothing is withheld or allowed. Things just happen. Period. No animal determinism, no cause and effect traced back to some big bang. Things just happen. After all who wants God anyway.
(After all, does God want us?)
She drew a line through the last sentence.
Beauty is all that makes us matter. Beauty in the little moments that become eternity. This has been said before, but if it is true it should be said again because no one has learned it. Beauty in the seconds it exists gives us eternal life.
If you keep on taking a moment and dividing it in half over and over again when will you ever reach the piece of time that is truly the present? For is not there always a nanosecond before and a nanosecond after? How long is the present? If you can always keep dividing time into smaller and smaller pieces, does that not make the present eternal? Does that not make a beautiful moment eternal?
(What then is this beautiful moment but God?)
She drew a line through the last sentence.
But then again beauty is not eternal in its effect on humans. People like to throw around the term ‘beauty in brokenness’ but come on what beauty is there in the cutting off of the head of a baby. Only the joy that it is not your own head. If evil things don’t just happen, should we worship the God who watches them, not intervening.
She must meet this Spirit.
"like"
ReplyDelete