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“Our faith is the rock we stand on, Willa—but we don’t demand anyone else stand here with us. Though if ever you wanted to, there is plenty of room.”
“God is real, my friend. And I daresay you have seen Him—you just didn’t know it.”
Can a man compose a symphony without paying attention to each individual note? Can he put together an orchestra without caring about each musician in it? It’s ridiculous to posit a Creator who stands back, unconcerned. If we grant a God, we have to grant a complete God.”
“What would you have Him do, Lukas? He warns us of how not to act, but we disobey—like that time I climbed the tree when Papa had told me not to. But how is mankind railing at God any different than when I screamed at Papa for not catching me when I fell, even though I’d done it deliberately when he wasn’t nearby?”
Did man’s actions grieve the Lord so in heaven? Did He ache for them, even as they tore themselves apart? Would it all be different if more people heeded His advice, as Margot implied?
how did one go about turning filth over to a God of purity? How did one get to know His voice? How could one ever escape the fear that one’s sins had ruined more lives than one could ever put to rights?
And Willa had decided then and there that she wouldn’t be like Mum, always waiting for someone else to show up and make her life better.
Cages are always meant to keep their prisoners safe.”
