I just finished Yann Martell’s novel, The Life of Pi.  I was pleasantly surprised by the book.  I knew about the storyline, i.e. an Indian boy is stranded on a lifeboat in the Pacific with a Royal Bengal tiger, but as I started reading it I wasn’t too convinced it would hold my interest for long.  But it did.  And now that I have finished it I find myself thinking back on it…wondering about it.  Since I have been reflecting on faith, hope and love a lot lately (specifically hope) it was nice that the book lends itself to those themes.  It does so in the light of one’s belief in God/the Divine.  This passage from the book beautifully describes the difficulties involved in putting one’s faith in God as well as the illumination one receives in continuing to love HIm through trials:

Faith in God is an opening up, a letting go, a deep trust, a free act of love–but sometimes it was so hard to love.  Sometimes my heart was sinking so fast with anger, desolation, and weariness, I was afraid it would sink to the very bottom of the Pacific and I would not be able to lift it back up.

At such moments I tried to elevate myself.  I would touch the turban I had made with the remnants of my shirt and I would say aloud, "THIS IS GOD’S HAT!"

I would pat my pants and say aloud, "THIS IS GOD’S ATTIRE!"

I would point to Richard Parker [the tiger] and say aloud, "THIS IS GOD’S CAT!"

I would point to the lifeboat and say aloud, "THIS IS GOD’S ARK!"

I would spread my hands wide and say aloud, "THESE ARE GOD’S WIDE ACRES!"

I would point at the sky and say aloud, "THIS IS GOD’S EAR!"

And in this way I would remind myself of creation and of my place in it.

But God’s hat was always unravelling.  God’s pants were falling apart.  God’s cat was a constant danger.  God’s ark was a jail.  God’s wide acres were slowly killing me.  God’s ear didn’t seem to be listening.

Despair was a heavy blackness that let no light in or out.  It was a hell beyond expression.  I thank God it always passed.  A school of fish appeared around the net or a knot cried out to be reknotted.  Or I thought of my family, of how they were spared this terrible agony.  The blackness would stir and eventually go away, and God would remain, a shining point of light in my heart.  I would go on loving.