My thoughts done got provoked.

     Thoughts on Pearson:
     I exercise significantly more than most (although I eat enough to disguise it), and I do well in relating to analogies that involve physical training. Whenever I begin a new style of physical training, it can be hard to be “get into the groove.” For example, when I first started weight lifting, or Taekwondo, the movements were awkward, painful, and difficult to master. I can feel this way sometimes when it comes reading large portions of literature. I’m excellent at reading small texts with good focus and interest, but I just can’t seem to keep focused on large portions. I’ve never thought about that from the perspective of simply needing to practice. I like thinking of it like that, because I know I’m capable of bettering myself. I look forward to “practicing” my “reading endurance.”
     Thoughts on McAloon:     McAloon speaks about lectio divina, and I must say it kind of excites me. I believe I’ll have to give it a try with some of the Psalms or Proverbs for the next few mornings. I plan to integrate the idea of looking into the world of the text, the world behind the text, and the world before the text into my meditatio and comtemplatio.
     The idea of poetry offering us words, worlds, and wonders rings very true to me. And, I believe that are very closely related and intertwined. I feel like the words lead to wonders that guide us to other worlds. Quite possibly, too, texts could lead us to worlds that show us wonders and allow us to see words in a new light, I’m sure. I imagine these three factors could interact in any number of ways to bring the reader in and change them.
     Thoughts on Corrigan (The essay, not the man):     “The practice of facing darkness is . . . where we lose our false religious hope and find an authentic hope in the God of truth beyond answers.” This line hit me. I had a wave of understanding about the level of faith it would take to truly sell all of my possessions, abandon the life I’ve got set up for myself, and follow after Christ. I really felt a rush of blood when I read this. Maybe I’m crazy, but I felt like it was one of those amazing obvious secrets in Christianity.

     How interesting that facing darkness is about hope. Although, I suppose most negative things are about facing them with their opposites. Does this mean that as long as we look to Christ as our hope, we will also be faced with darkness? Where is God in the darkness? Is it in the darkness that we can most clearly see God? Is it that in the darkness we should see God most clearly?