It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. . . . There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilisations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours.
C. S. Lewis quoted in Peter Kreeft’s Heaven: The Heart’s Deepest Longing
I’ve been slowing nibbling at this book. It’s the one I pick up when I’m between books. Sometimes I feel vaguely guilty for that; but I think perhaps thats about the rate I need to read it to properly absorb and contemplate what Kreeft is saying. Perhaps it’s good that I’m not doing my usual gulping and gobbling. Anyway, this passage from Lewis is one of my favorites and I thought I’d share.
I remember going out one evening without my first child (he was about 18 months old) and returning later than I expected. My husband greeted me at the door and told me that Joseph was already asleep in his bed. I was shocked- he had never before gone to bed without me nursing him down. It was a bittersweet moment- didn’t he need me anymore? Of course not, but it still put a lump in my throat.
Yeah, it’s both exciting and an occasion for teary eyes when we notice our little ones growing up and gaining independence.