Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good (Mitford)

by Jan Karon

Oh, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person: having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them out. Just as they are—chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness, blow the rest away. —DINAH MARIA (MULOCK) CRAIK, 1826–1887

All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art. JL Borges

She was waiting to grow out of the terrible fear of too much happiness, or too much sorrow.

He had a moment of yearning for those days. The ‘old fled days,’ the Irish called their years of tribulation. In tribulation, there had been a certain sweetness, too, as marrow in a remorseless bone.

Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world unto himself: Mercifully grant that we, who glory in the mystery of our redemption, may have grace to take up our cross and follow him; who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting.

Here he was, seventysomething, and still whining, though God had woven like a gold thread through every chapter of every book of Holy Writ: Rejoice! Know that I am with you and for you and will never leave you; take courage that I will fight for you and be your shield and buckler and provide for you when you are old; I will supply your every need, I will give you victory over death, I have prepared a place for you in heaven . . .

He put his head in his hand. And as yet my love is weak, he prayed as did Thomas à Kempis, and my virtue imperfect and I have great need of your strength and comfort . . .

‘Call the mayor’s office, please, and say I’ll get back to him next week.’ ‘Got it. What do clergy down th’ mountain want with you?’ ‘They want me to tell them everything’s going to be all right.’ ‘Is it?’ ‘All I know is that the gates of hell shall not prevail against the church. I can’t be more specific, thus I’m not the man for the job.’

‘Visit this place, O Lord,’ he prayed into the darkened room, ‘and drive far from it all snares of the enemy; let your holy angels dwell with us to preserve us in peace; and let your blessing be upon us always; through Jesus Christ our Lord, amen.’

No two persons ever read the same book.—Edmund Wilson