so wildly believable to me is how preposterous and gorgeous it is; the fact that God wants to save this world, save us, as we are—arrogant, fragile beings with wills blown wind wild, making havoc of creation yet also crafting a beauty that recalls our origin, embodying a preciousness that cannot be described without tears. That God counts these lives, this world, worthy of his own diminishment, and that he is, like me, a besotted mother capable of any sacrifice for my demanding, bumbling child, draws belief from me as the sight of a sleeping child draws my gasp of tenderness.
