The Shack: Where Tragedy Confronts Eternity

by William Paul Young

There is something joyful about storms that interrupt routine. Snow or freezing rain suddenly releases you from expectations, performance demands, and the tyranny of appointments and schedules. And unlike illness, it is largely a corporate rather than individual experience. One can almost hear a unified sigh rise from the nearby city and surrounding countryside where Nature has intervened to give respite to the weary humans slogging it out within her purview. All those affected this way are united by a mutual excuse, and the heart is suddenly and unexpectedly a little giddy.

the legend of the beautiful Indian maid, the daughter of a chief of the Multnomah tribe.

The soul is healed by being with children. —Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Sadness is a wall between two gardens. —Kahlil Gibran

Two broken lovers, they held each other and wept as Mack poured out his sorrow and Nan tried to hold him in one piece.

And when she broke down, as she frequently did, Vicki or Sarah was always there to weep and pray with her.