I wonder what it'd be like to host the God of the Universe... would it be easy because of how incredibly compassionate and understanding He is? I'd feel such pressure...or perhaps to be so continually rocked by the brilliance of Truth contrasting the sinful, sooty reality of human life, it would wear you out.
I wonder what Christ's disciples missed most about having had a home, in those times of dirty, wearying travel. Home cooked meals? A favourite rug? Sitting alone in the refraction of that evening's glow after a carefully prepared meal?
I wonder if Christ was capable of sentimentality. Or is there something about that longing for what once was that is intrinsically unique to a 3-dimensional experience of the 4th dimension?
