I sat to write today with a singular thought. It's a pretty simple thought, but a myriad of circumstances, including the death of my friend mentioned above, have led to enough of a maelstrom in my mind that I had to take a break from reading and sipping hot tea on this frigid day to write. I will say that I've read a great deal since last we chatted, reader, and I might soon be again forced to sit and blog in order to tell you more about Austen's Northanger Abbey, which was the book club's January book, as well as Cold Mountain, which is our February book. Incidentally, Cold Mountain was my selection, and after hearing some of the feedback from the book club ladies, I might be put on probation for asking them to read what is admittedly not a cheerful book at a time when Louisiana is experiencing winter in a way we haven't experienced winter since Ronald Reagan was President.
So, I digress. That'll be the title of my autobiography should I ever write one (I won't): I Digress. The singular thought that has been dancing in my mind all week was inspired by a February 9 editorial in the New York Times written by Ezra Klein. The title of that piece is, "Should We Dim the Sun? Will We Even Have a Choice?"
Yes, that is actually the title of the piece. Should we dim the sun. I immediately thought of the C.S. Lewis quote above from The Problem of Pain, "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."
Increasingly, public policy is crafted by individuals who have no firm concept of their place in the world. Politicians who do not know God and do not fear God read editorials about dimming the sun, and their belief that they are powerful, important people grows. They seek to foist nonsensical policy on the American people, policy that is predicated on the idea that human beings can control things we ultimately cannot control.
That is, essentially, what I sat down this afternoon to say: We are specks in time; we came from dust, and to dust we shall return, and the sun will bear down on us until the Lord snuffs it out.