I say to my breath once again, little breath come from in front of me, go away behind me, row me quietly now, as far as you can, for I am an abyss that I am trying to cross.
W. S. MerwinRead
Whence comes this idea that if what we are doing is fun, it can't be God's will? The God who made giraffes, a baby's fingernails, a puppy's tail, a crooknecked squash, the bobwhite's call, and a young girl's giggle, has a sense of humor. Make no mistake about that.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that the joy in our activities is part of God's will, highlighting the divine nature of fun and humor in creation.
Catherine Marshall's quote challenges the misconception that fun and enjoyment are contrary to spiritual or divine intention. By celebrating the beauty and humor found in the world—from the peculiarities of nature to the simple joys of life—the quote implies that these delights are indeed part of a higher purpose, reflecting God's creativity and sense of humor.
In practice
During a church service to encourage attendees to embrace joy.
I say to my breath once again, little breath come from in front of me, go away behind me, row me quietly now, as far as you can, for I am an abyss that I am trying to cross.
But I've got to think of myself as the luckiest guy. Robert Johnson only had one album's worth of work as his legacy. That's all that life allowed him.
And all that weirdness isn't just going on outside. It's in you too, right now, growing in the dark like magic mushrooms. Call it the Thing in the Cellar. Call it the Blow Lunch Factor. Call it the Loony Tunes File. I think of it as my private dinosaur, huge, slimy, and mindless, stumbling around in the stinking swamp of my subconscious, never finding a tar pit big enough to hold it.
If your desires are not great, a little will seem much to you; for small appetite makes poverty equivalent to wealth.
In light this bright, after so long in the dark, everything we can see is only black and white. Only glaring shape-outlines we have to blink against.
Why should death make a man truthful, or even clever? The dead are likely dull fellows, full of tedious complaints - the ground's too cold, my gravestone should be larger, why does he get more worms than I do.
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