Walking on Water resurrected

Dang it...Sometimes you just want to kick yourself for waxing eloquent about writing honestly (guess that means I have to actually do it ;) ). Ok, so joking aside, I've finally gotten to do some of that reading I've been meaning to get to...and find myself picking up books that I've read before to see what a second (or third) go-around brings (Of course, I'm reading some newbies too). I've even started rereading the book I read for my poetry class two years ago, L'Engle's Walking on Water. It's an interesting read the second time around.

A couple lines keep running through my mind...
"And as I listen to the silence, I learn that my feelings about art and my feelings about the Creator of the Universe are inseparable. To try to talk about art and about Christianity is for me one and the same thing, and it means attempting to share the meaning of my life, what gives it, for me, its tragedy and its glory. It is what makes me respond to the death of an apple tree, the birth of a puppy, northern lights shaking the sky, by writing stories."

Part of me responds "Yes, exactly!" to that; another part of me is still grappling to understand it, to hold the weight of what L'Engle is saying. If that is true for me, the question arises as to what that reality entails...