If I had to choose which sentences is the most beautiful of all the sentences in the English language I would choose this one: "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known."
The arrangement and rhythm of the words themselves move me. But the beauty for me happens on another level as well.
Lately I've been struggling (again) with the idea of suffering, specifically with the suffering that mental illness causes to the afflicted person and to that person's family. I have so many moments where I just look at what mental illness does--the waste it engenders, the sadness, the helplessness, the hopelessness when things are going badly--and I just want to say Oh really, God? What's the point of this one? Will someone Holy please explain it to me? Is that even a possibility? Because guess what. I. Just. Do. Not. Get. It. At all.
But sometimes grace descends in the form of words, and I hear them call to me.
On this side of the glass.