I’m reading Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis, who, by the way, is one of my favorite authors. This second book in his Space Trilogy, has once again turned my mind inside out and upside down. Some nights, I put his book aside simply because his descriptions of “The Bent One” are just too frightening. There are times I want to walk away from his books because they force me to think deeper than I sometimes want. Like when his character profoundly confesses, “To walk out of His will is to walk into nowhere.”
So I read on, because his work stretches me. Simply too good and too brilliant. I learn something new about God or see from a new perspective.
And isn’t that what a good book is supposed to do?