Notes from the Tilt-a-Whirl: Wide-Eyed Wonder in God's Spoken World

What is this world? What kind of place is it?

The round kind. The spinning kind. The moist kind. The inhabited kind. The kind with flamingos (real and artificial). The kind where water in the sky turns into beautifully symmetrical crystal flakes sculpted by artists unable to stop themselves (in both design and quantity). The kind of place with tiny, powerfully jawed mites assigned to the carpets to eat my dead skin as it flakes off.... The kind with people who kill and people who love and people who do both....

This world is beautiful but badly broken.