I’m so hopelessly trapped in my internal world, there may be no escape. Some dramatic, external event needs to happen to shock me back into reality.
I was determined not to watch The Shack, but after a billion recommendations, I had to give in. So after cleaning in the morning, I took the fateful tram journey to Cineworld for the second time this week. It was ok; hardly the greatest cinematic experience, and more like a two-hour Sunday school lesson, but it was a great story of healing. It’s become standard of me to cry at any film nowadays, whether due to a shameless play on emotions, or absolutely no logical explanation. I think it’s a good sign.
I then watched My Cousin Rachel, which provided a suitable contrast of extreme darkness and mystery. When I got home, I decided to read the Bible, to try and solidify my thoughts. As soon as I started reading, I felt them realigning into coherence, even though I couldn’t feel God saying anything specific. “All were amazed at the gracious words falling from his lips.” (Luke 4:22)