And in the evening, when I lie in bed and end my prayer with words, “I thank you, God, for all that is good and dear and beautiful,” I am filled with joy. Then I think about “the good” of going into hiding, of my health and with my whole being of the “dearness” of Peter, of that which is still embryonic and impressionable and which we neither of us dare to name or touch, of that which will come sometime; love, the future happiness and of ‘the beauty’ which exists in the world, the world, nature, beauty and all, all that is exquisite and fine.
I don’t think then of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains. This is one of the things that Mummy and I are so entirely different about. Her counsel when one feels melancholy is: “Think of all the misery in the world and be thankful that you are not sharing in it!” My advice is: “Go outside, to the fields, enjoy nature and the sunshine, go out and try to recapture happiness in yourself and in God. Think of all the beauty that’s still left in and around you and be happy!”
I don’t see how Mummy’s idea can be right, because then how are you supposed to behave if you go through the misery yourself? Then you are lost. One the contrary , I’ve found that there is always some beauty left-in nature, sunshine, freedom, in yourself; these can all help you. Look at these things, then you find yourself again, and God, and then you regain your balance.
And whoever is happy will make others happy too. He who has courage and faith will never perish in misery!
Young Anne Frank wrote this in her diary from her secret annexe. Read it again. Imagine her situation. Imagine yours.
[Remember Luke – he maintained faith that his Dad could transform, and that made all the difference (weird Star Wars reference here, sorry if it’s jarring.)]
What are we writing in our diaries these days? How does it square with our Christian faith? How do we make room for transformation? What if we already knew the outcome and it was Love?
Aw come on join us Sunday morning in the library. John