By Sarah Van Diest
“True beauty must be able to engage the dark desolations of pain; perhaps it is
on this frontier that its finest light appears?” John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace
There was
so much I could write that day. I could write on being home after a trip to
visit our son in Italy. I could write about Christmas just around the corner. I
could write about one of our five sons who turns 18 in a few days, entering
adulthood. I could write about freedom and life juxtaposed with law and death
as depicted in the movie Ferris Bueller’s
Day Off. Seriously. There is so much I could write about. Friendship and
love. Hope in sorrow. God’s faithfulness. Thankfulness. Wisdom. Passion.
Forgiveness. Grace.
How do we
choose, dear ones, what to write on when our hearts are full? How can we select
one blessing over another and proclaim it to be superior simply by the act of
choosing it? How do we not, when our hearts run over, spend our entire day with
our eyes heavenward praising our Father? Or maybe we do just that.
