George MacDonald’s writings have delighted the hearts and fired the imaginations of C. S. Lewis, Tolkien and many others. I, too, owe him a debt of gratitude. He has given me eyes to see wonder in the mundane. And he has given me small and shining glimpses of the wonder of heaven, ‘our natal home’:
“And in perfect time, O perfect God,
When we are in our home, our natal home,
When joy shall carry every sacred load,
And from its life and peace no heart shall roam,
What if thou make us able to make like thee –
To light with moons, to clothe with greenery,
To hang gold sunsets o’er a rose and purple sea!”
Diary of an Old Soul
He was a poor man whose life was marked by repeated failure and chronic illness, and yet he is described as a ‘sunny and playful man’ who rested in what he referred to as ‘the holy present.’ Someone has said that he lived confidently in the petition, ‘Give us this day our daily bread.’
For years, I have prayed his prayer – “In me, wake hope, fear, boundless desire.” Will you join me?