So this morning, I was watching the trees blow in the wind, and I thought, Where does this all go? I envisioned a place full of light, a place that as a human, I could never understand.
I suppose that sometimes my musings drift all over the place, but whenever I think about these matters, one thing is always constant, and that's this: I never feel as if death is the ultimate end, final, and then there's nothing; every time I wonder, I have a feeling that there is more.
What about the mystery between two music notes? Shakespeare called this divine, because there is no way to explain the connection there. No way at all. People can play music all day long, great music, genius music, but there's no real explanation of what lies between two notes. What about love? What about the feeling of knowing someone from the past? Hey, that person looks familiar. We've all had that, right? And what about great art. Great art holds a divine mystery as well. The meaning could never be "proven," because each person sees it in a different light, even the creator, especially the creator.
Which means that creating is a divine enterprise.
Which means that regardless of where this all goes, I better get to work.
C.A. MacConnell
