This morning I finished a book that I have been working my way through for over two years. God Laughs & Plays by David James Duncan. It’s been my go-to for so long, brought along on every camping trip and out-of-town weekend since the Fall of 2014 that I’m not sure what I’ll do without it now that I’m finished.
Duncan identifies as a Jesus-loving non-Christian; a pew-poor, river-rich itinerant storyteller, writing teacher, and churchless preacher whose life has been conducted in mostly playful, but occasionally heartbroken, response to the conservation and and cultural crises of his time.
He wrote my all-time favorite novel and now he’s given this gift as well, bringing words to things unarticulated inside me. This section, on the second-to-last page, stood out in particular as I finished the final chapter.
But if the punctiformities I’ve glimpsed in some sense do exist–
if each and every day the Divine Voice does issue from Sinai,
and if every inch of Creation is pierced by Its song
and every dot, point, cell, particle, field is so moved by the Music
that it loves to sing, swell, shrink, leap, divide, transform,
and bear all fruit and all life and all death and all regeneration in response,
well then ahhhhhhh! How grateful I am to be here!
And how carefully and attentively I want to live!
I’ll probably just re-start the whole thing tomorrow!