it. We have a hunger for things above, but our skill for filling that hunger has atrophied. We’re like a lapcat—still with the instinct for catching mice, but lacking the reflexes—whose pampered existence has made it slow and lazy, inept at stalking, clumsy at pouncing. It rarely catches its prey, if even it stirs to notice the prey in its midst. We’re like that with heaven: We long for it, but we’ve lost the tautness and alertness, the agility and quickness, to satisfy the longing. We’ve grown lethargic. We’ve become so earthly-minded we’re of no heavenly good.
