Good Book, 3

I'm back to reading The Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon (I told you about it a few weeks ago--remember the time traveling woman? That's the one).  Sometimes, an epic series such as Outlander loses it's enchantment and starts to bore me with it's predictability once I'm several books in. And while I've caught on to a few of the author's literary tricks, I'm still hooked. One thing I love about these books is that despite being nearly 1,000 pages in length, the author still manages to infuse the prose with beautiful thoughts about being a woman, a mother, a physician and a human being. I find myself returning to these places in the books to re-read passages that have spoken to me. The last few months of my life have been marked by these books. I will remember reading them at this time in life, they have touched me that much.

I will leave you with a favorite passage from book three, Voyager:

It had happened many times before, but it always took me by surprise. Always in the midst of great stress, wading waist deep in trouble and sorrow, as doctors do, I would glance out a window, open a door, look into a face and there it would be, unexpected and unmistakable. A moment of peace.

The light spread from the sky to the ship, and the great horizon was no longer a blank threat of emptiness, but the habitation of joy. For a moment I lived in the center of the sun, warmed and cleansed, and the smell and sight of sickness fell away; the bitterness lifted from my heart.

I never looked for it, gave it no name; yet I knew it always, when the gift of peace came. I stood quite still for the moment it lasted, thinking it strange and not strange that grace should find me here, too.

Then the light shifted slightly, and the moment passed, leaving me as it always did, with the lasting echo of it's presence. In a reflex of acknowledgement, I crossed myself and went below, my tarnished armor faintly gleaming.