I just finished reading it. I finished it this morning, at 8:23 am.

I don't know if I can put into words the beauty and the significance I've found in this book, but I can try. I think there was a message from him in there, too. That he's bigger than all this. That he's even more lovely.

So today I got up before sunrise and watched some standup comedy on the internet. I felt that ache in my heart, the one that happens when I need to be away from the computer and the second, man-made layer of life that it paints over me, but I didn't give it up at first. That second layer of grime has a numbing effect, and it's hard to shake off. Someday I hope to shake it off forever and never go back. But that's beside the point. I think.

Anyway, I went to the bathroom and turned off the light and watched the sun rise through the window. Everything always looks a little better in the sunlight, I thought. I could hear birds chirping, and Abby jumped up into the window and meowed. I told her "Shh, we have to be quiet. The sun is rising." As if in begrudging agreement, she settled quietly and furrily into the window sill, and looked out the open space in the wall toward the lightening sky. Most of the above was a baby blue streaked with angel pink clouds, a creamy, confectionery expanse made of sugar and cotton candy. But it was the golden pat of butter, spilling upward through the trees, that had my attention. I don't know why, but I always seem to find the most beautiful spot in the whole sky with my eyes when I am talking to God. Many times, it's where the sun is. I hope he is not angry; I am not trying to pray to the sun. It is just beautiful, and I suppose I think that the most beautiful thing I can see wherever I am must be the thing that has the closest ties to him.

So I was looking at the sun, watching it rise, when it occurred to me that the sun wasn't actually rising, the earth was sinking. I mean that when we experience a sunrise, it looks like the sun is rising, but in reality, the earth revolves around the sun, so the earth is the one moving. And if the sun looks like it is moving upward, we must really be moving downward. I stopped for a minute, trying to feel the pull of the earth. At first, I didn't like it. The idea of sinking, falling, being sucked downward didn't appeal to me. It felt like we were all lurching toward a massive grave, stuck on this doomed vessel, headed for darkness. But then I closed my eyes, made my breathing quiet, and ever so slightly felt the world tug on my body, keeping it close to itself as it sank with the most careful slowness, holding on to people, sheep, and clouds, not letting a single life slip off into the abyss. I felt the huge cosmic elevator with its great arms around my waist, mercifully hugging me to it, and I think now that maybe he is like this, too, in a way I can't understand quite yet. I hope I will, someday.