Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I've Loved

by Kate Bowler

when I realize that I’m shouting at the man who has spent most of his life working jobs beneath him to pay for my school, to buy my books, and to get me those juice boxes I like.

And we all felt sad in that limited way of students too new to the world to know its burdens.

If I were to invent a sin to describe what that was—for how I lived—I would not say it was simply that I didn’t stop to smell the roses. It was the sin of arrogance, of becoming impervious to life itself. I failed to love what was present and decided to love what was possible instead. I must learn to live in ordinary time, but I don’t know how. —

“Don’t skip to the end,” he said, gently. “Don’t skip to the end.” —

Plans are made. Plans come apart. New delights or tragedies pop up in their place. And nothing human or divine will map out this life, this life that has been more painful than I could have imagined. More beautiful than I could have imagined.