“‘I have seen things,’ Aquinas told a friend, ‘that make all my writings seem like straw.’ Most people have also seen such things. Through some moment of beauty or pain, some sudden turning of their lives, most of them have caught glimmers at least of what the saints are blinded by. Only then, unlike the saints, they go on as thoughFrederick Buechner
nothing has happened. We are all more mystics than we let on, even to ourselves. Life is complicated enough as it is.”
It’s that time, when the lighted trees go up and the nostalgic music begins to play, that we tend to catch those glimmers.
A little bit of what C.S. Lewis called sehnsucht, northerness, a fleeting snatch of joy, a momentary glimpse of something beyond.
And something in you wants to devote your life to searching it out.
But usually we just let the moment pass and keep on walking.