Some liken the Holy Spirit to a shy and gentle bird
who must be approached quietly and slowly,
lest he be frightened and fly away.
Others liken the Holy Spirit to a ravening hawk. . .
my experiences have been more hawklike than dovelike.
But considerable violence is needed to pull my fragments together,
to join sunside and nightside;
it’s a wildly athletic act to place the mind into the heart
and a lot of muscles get pulled.
The Irrational Season
The Crosswicks Journal
Today my husband and I attended the choral Communion service at St. John the Divine Cathedral in Manhattan where Madeleine L’Engle was a writer-in-residence. She believed that her fiction, some for children, reflected her faith that the universe has meaning.
Reblogged this on Living Lines Moment by Moment.