Some weeks ago, I wrote I was in the midst of reading Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited, and in particular, quoted his memorable phrase "The Languor of Youth". I have since finished reading the book once, and I don't know what to feel about it. On one side, I am happy for the Flytes, that having gone through their life trials, they find solace in the Church again. On another side, Waugh painted a very bleak picture of pre- and post-WWII England.
I was browsing the old posts of Enbrethiliel's blog, and found a post on how the infamous gay-icon poster-child literary-genius Oscar Wilde was Catholic. No, I'm not trying to claim any famous persona for the Church; rather I was inspired reading a story of his lifelong relationship with the Church. Death-bed conversions have long fascinated and touched me, God literally snatched them from the jaws of hell! As I read the account of Wilde's last days, I could imagine the desperation and the depth of remorse from one who had wasted an entire lifetime not being in communion.
When my grandmother came to visit me for two weeks, slowed down by high blood pressure, high blood triglycerine, and once fractured hip, I observed how much her life has changed. I began to look at my own life, sometimes moments wasted in languor, taking for granted that tomorrow will come, and tomorrow my task will get done. When youth is gone, to see the sun rising tomorrow is no longer a guarantee. Each task carries an urgency that had nothing to do with its own nature, but an urgency that is borne out of perceived limited time one has to carry it out. Isn't our life too short to be wasted in youthful languor?
Tomorrow is a brand new day, and working in the field of the Lord, there is not a moment to lose!
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