“We have much to be judged on when he comes, slums and battlefields and insane asylums, but these are symptoms of our illness, and the result of our failures in love. In the evening of life we shall be judged on love, and not one of us is going to come off very well, and were it not for my absolute faith in the loving forgiveness of my Lord I could not call on him to come.
But his love is greater than all our hate, and he will not rest until Judas has turned to him, until Satan has turned to him, until the dark has turned to him; until all, all of us without exception, freely return his look of love with love in our own eyes and hearts. And then, healed, whole, complete but not finished, we will know the joy of being co-creators with the one to whom we call.
Amen. Even so, come Lord Jesus.” ~ Madeleine L’Engle, The Irrational Season
“Invisible light in your lover’s heart, will show the way through the fiery furnace. And what burns up is torn away, and what remains is a beautiful promise.” ~ Jolie Holland, You Painted Yourself In
The Fire
by Franz Wright
Listen, I’ve light
in my eyesand on my skin
the warmth of a star, so strange
is this
that I
can barely comprehend it:
I think
I’ll lift my face to it, and then
I lift my face,
and don’t even know how
this is done. And
everything alive
(and everything’s
alive) is turning
into something else
as at the heart
of some annihilating
or is it creating
fire
that’s burning, unseeably, always
burning at such speeds
as eyes cannot
detect, just try
to observe your own face
growing old
in the mirror, or
is it beginning
to be born?
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