Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
It’s difficult for me to be disappointed these days. Perhaps the old age is catching up with me, in which a certain favorite author of mine has aptly described it,’you’re an adult when you know you won’t die out of heartache’. To which I find it rather amusing, to attribute my inability to feel (and sometimes to respond) to maturity and wisdom. A friend of mine, who one day stumbled upon me on my praying mat, voiced our her envy for the solace I find in religion.
True, in many cases I find myself at peace with things around me. I am not afraid of getting hurt, I am not afraid of losing, I am not afraid of new things and the unknown. But is it not contradictory to derive my strength from God and yet be at odds with Him at the same time? It’s peculiar, but reassuring nonetheless. For this how I wish I could engage in conversations with God.
No comments:
Post a Comment