Boiling it Down

This exerpt was taken from a novel I'm reading. I think it pretty much says it all.
From: Taken by Tom Pawlik

"It's not what she did so much as what she didn't do, Mr. Hayden. It's what you didn't do. Or Mitch. It's what all those who stand here (on the edge of death) neglected to do."
 
"What's that?"
Howard leaned close and whispered through his teeth, "Believe."
 
Conner felt his anger roiling. "Believe? Believe in what? You know what our world is like. You tell me what there is to believe in. You tell me what religion was worth my attention."

"Not religion, Mr. Hayden. Religions is too often mere rote and regiment. And at worst, a license to slaughter the unfaithful. No, He hates that kind of religion as much as you do." Howard shook his head and grunted. "But your species is unparalleled in its hypocrisy. How you could turn such a remarkable thing, and sublime, into something so mundane. He beckons you into His very presence - where angels fear to tread - and you contrive a myriad of obstacles to put in the way. Too often you've constructed traditions and formalities that serve more to keep others out than to usher you in. Then, when you've squeezed every drop of life and vitatlity from your worship, you sniff at the ritual you've created and blame it on Him." Howard stepped to the edge of the abyss and cast a glance downward. "Do you know how many religious souls are down there? How many people who thought they were good enough? who went through all the motions just to feel comfortable with themselves but ignored the one thing required of them."

"Perfection?" Conner scoffed.
"Humility," Howard intoned. "A penitent heart."

"There's no way to please Him. He's as cruel and uncaring as I always thought Him to be."

"Uncaring?" Howard chuckled. "For all your education and intellect, you're a great fool, aren't you? Like a man who goes to a ball game with no tickets and no wallet, no ability to pay for his admission. And yet when you arrive, you think you should just be let inside the park."

Conner peered again at the far side of the gulf and shook his head. "If he is good and loving, why is there a price to get into heaven?"

"Everything has a cost, Mr. Hayden. You of all people should understand that . And you don't have the slightest clue how great that cost was."

"What cost?"
"Redemption," Howard said and narrowed his eyes. "But then again...you don't believe in that, do you. You don't believe you need it.

Spring

Oh how I've missed you...
white fluffy clouds of Bradford Pear blossoms
the forsythia bursting golden sunshiney yellow
Redbud dressed in soft, velvety, pink petals
bright pink azaleas explode like grounded fireworks, lasting slightly longer
hardy daffodils and the gracious yet imperious iris
your sweet fragrances carried along by the breeze as my soul soars along side
long, cold, dreary, colorless days give way to soft, lingering light and
Color from God's best palette
Relief, hope resurrected along with seeds lain dormant, thought dead
then when least expected new green pokes through unveiling a season's work underground
Temperatures mellow in contrast to my mood of joy
various notes of birdsong filter through, adding layer to the fragrance, the silky breeze, the velvet light
Spring, long hoped for friend, end to to death, you carry life with you, making the world bearable and more beautiful. A reminder of His promises. Proof to Resurrection.
Oh, how I've missed you...