Our culture works against anyone having a deep understanding of suffering. We only want to get through it as soon as possible, or else we obsess with the theological problem of how to reconcile the suffering of innocents with the idea of a loving God. As a result of our narrowing our response to suffering to these two choices, we miss out on seeing just how central to our understanding of grace is our ability to experience limitations. Life without limitations--without death and suffering--is life without grace. There is, in short, no way to measure the value of our lives without the experience of them as a temporary gift.
I have been wanting to read The Diary of a Country Priest for years. But I had no idea how beautiful this book was until I finished it. This is one of the most poignant portraits of a limited human being who is beautiful in that limitation, and through it. I wish that reviewers had never used the word "luminous" to describe prose so that I could save it for this description. Passages of this book are luminous. Read it; cherish it.
