A couple excerpts that make me SMILE

Yeah for holidays and reading!

I'm nearly finished Wide-Eyed Wonder in God's Spoken Word: Notes for the Tilt-A-Whirl by N.D. Wilson and in the 172 out of 197 pages that I've finished I'd totally recommend it.

On a side note, I've realized lately that one of the trusty skills I learned in university that has stuck with me is citing / quoting other sources - specifically Chicago Manual style that I pounded out in history papers. Wouldn't my professors be proud.

Back on topic. So I shall share a couple passages that were worthy enough to put smiley faces in the margins. (not exactly something I'd write in history texts - but who would?!?)

1.

Have you ever had something so annoying happen, something so impossibly coincidental, that you know there must be a God, and that he must be laughing? Do you want to be the character in the movie who can't take a joke, who can't laugh at the awkward, at the uncomfortable? Worse, the character who can't laugh at himself?

If you discover one morning (with moist toes) that the toilet bowl has been covered with plastic wrap, do you deny the existence of your roommate?

Ask yourself this question: who invented your roommate, and decided to give him a role (along with certain impulses and sensibilities) in your life? Complain. Whine. Be a fusser. The story needs those as well, because every butt needs a joke, and the audience must laugh. Whether they (and God) laugh at or with is up to you. (p. 86-87)

2.

While in grad school I met a man, scrawny, with a patchy beard, prime to be philosophical.

He smirked at my Christianity and spouted lines from the angry German [Nietzsche] who died gibbering. We stood in a soulless academic hallway and looked at each other. I'm afraid I didn't listen carefully. I was watching him eat while he talked, munching fries. I could see a burger box still tucked into the bag.

"What is rightness?" I asked. I'd interrupted a train of thought. He raised his eyebrows.

"Whatever comes from strength. Evil comes from weakness."

"Give me the fries," I said quietly.

"What?"

I straightened up and stepped toward him. I had at least six inches on him, and more than fifty pounds. "Give me the damn fries. The burger too."

I was ready to hit him, to throw him against the wall. Panic bubbled in his eyes, but I couldn't follow through. Laughing, I stepped back. He stayed long enough to blaspheme, and then he moved down the hall. His fries when with him.

I wish all Nietzsche's disciples were as small. (p. 125-126)

3.

We could say He [God] cares nothing for our pain. We could say He is not good. We could say we don't understand why the sky isn't all rainbows and why the common cold exists. But we would be fools. And somehow, He would still like us. (p. 111)