"You are spoken. I am spoken. We stand on a spoken stage. The spinning kind. The round kind. The moist kind. The kind of stage with beetles and laughter and babies and dirt and snow and fresh-cut cedar."
Nate (N.D.) Wilson has produced a book that incites worship. The kind that unites the high and low together. Those who seek hallowed churches with expensive glass or those who can only afford to breath the air, but suck it often in big gulp, using both mouth and nose, to feel the pleasure of having more than enough. Born and raised in the Palouse (Moscow, Idaho), N.D. brought me back to the land that I love with creative prose that I have never seen the likes of before. It is obvious that he has a rich sense of experience, while at the same time not devaluing the cries of the mind for helpful explanations. Since I started the book I have described the world differently: the world is the grammar of God, and the expanding universe is the overflowing chorus. His language is not only truth, but it is substance. He spoke, and it was...
No comments:
Post a Comment