David

“Are the gods not just?"

"Oh no, child. What would become of us if they were?”
― C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces

“What does nostalgia mean to a child? An abstraction. A standing stone waiting for them in the mist. Walk a path across some decades, any path you like, and the word will gather weight. It will come to you trailing maybes and might-have-beens. Nostalgia is a drug, a knife. Against young skin it carries a dull edge, but time will teach you that nostalgia cuts - and that it's a blade that we cannot keep from applying to our own flesh.”
― Mark Lawrence, The Book That Wouldn’t Burn

“A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

“Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.

She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.

"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.

My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.

Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.

"But if Jesus is perfect--"

Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops.”
― Ian Morgan Cron, Jesus, My Father, The CIA, and Me: A Memoir. . . of Sorts