Nothing Is Wasted
The world spoke English to you, but you mistook this kindness for your own reflection, and for the divine favor of your Anglo Gods. I write to you in English because it’s the language I was taught, and creates a common ground where we both may kneel. Nothing is wasted. I say it again, nothing is wasted— not your youth, not your privilege, not even all those years you dragged your boat to the mountaintop expecting to find an ocean there. Would this enormous world make better sense to you if covered in hieroglyphics? Or in Latin? Or Mandarin? What God wants you to know, God says in many languages and many more voices. What you don’t know, what you can only accept and eventually appreciate, will bring you into the Mystery.
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