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255 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1963
I looked up at the sky and at the stars and at the moon, and the moon was no longer smiting me. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what the difference was. I didn’t understand the psalm any better now, and I still didn’t understand about Anne Frank and the town of Frank, and I’d probably go right on yelling at God to do it my way when I got upset about things.
The point was that now I knew it didn’t matter whether or not I understood. It didn’t matter because even if I didn’t understand, there was something there to be understood.
If you’ve read much of Ms. L’Engle’s work, you know this is a common thread; that it’s okay to admit you just don’t know and that you don’t understand about God, but that there is definitely something out there that people call God. Personally, I agree with her. I think it’s much better to admit you don’t know or have doubts, than to be convinced that God is this or that and that you or your church has all the answers.
This series is quite unlike the Time series, but I’m enjoying it so far.