A Promptitude of Peoetry

"It is merely that when a man has found something which he prefers to life, he then for the first time begins to live. A promptitude of poetry opens in his soul of which our paltry experiences do not possess the key. When once he has despised this world as mere instrument, it has become a musical instrument; it falls into certain artistic harmonies around him.” ~G.K. Chesterton: Lunacy & Letters.

Cutting off the Branch

There is a difficulty about disagreeing with God. He is the source from which all your reasoning power comes: you could not be right and He wrong any more than a stream can rise higher than its own source.

When you are arguing against Him you are arguing against the very power that makes you able to argue at all: it is like cutting off the branch you are sitting on.

– C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Be Thou by Us

From "David Elginbrod": the prayer at the cottage:

“O thou, wha keeps the stars alicht, an’ our souls burnin’ wi’ a licht aboon that o’ the stars, grant that they may shine afore thee as the stars for ever and ever. An’ as thou hauds the stars burnin’ a’ the nicht, whan there’s no man to see, so haud thou the licht burnin’ in our souls, whan we see neither thee nor it, but are buried in the grave o’ sleep an’ forgetfu’ness. Be thou by us, even as a mother sits by the bedside o’ her ailin’ wean a’ the lang nicht; only be thou nearer to us, even in our verra souls, an’ watch ower the warl’ o’ dreams that they mak’ for themsels. Grant that more an’ more thochts o’ thy thinkin’ may come into our herts day by day, till there shall be at last an open road atween thee an’ us, an’ thy angels may ascend and descend upon us, so that we may be in thy heaven, e’en while we are upo’ thy earth: Amen.”

— George MacDonald

So beautiful, so loving and gentle. May we learn to be more like that. 🌸

Waiting Watchful for Thy Will

O master, my desires to work, to know,

To be aware that I do live and grow—

All restless wish for anything not thee,

I yield, and on thy altar offer me.

Let me no more from out thy presence go,

But keep me waiting watchful for thy will—

Even while I do it, waiting watchful still.

— George MacDonald