The Wood Between the Worlds

In C. S. Lewis' book "The Magician's Nephew" he describes how Narnia first came to be, and who the first people from our world were to see it.  But before the main characters Diggory and Polly get there, they travel to an in-between place, which Lewis called 'The Wood Between the Worlds.'  In that place, both children find themselves drowsy and forgetful.  They lose all sense of who they are, where they came from, and what they were doing.  They can't even recall where they were going, and have trouble figuring out how to get there.

I can relate.  How about you?

One of the things I love so much about those books is how little scenes like the one I described help me make sense of my own life.  Recently, my women's small group has been looking at The Chronicles of Narnia and finding how they tie into and reflect stories and truths found in scripture.*  Naturally, I've been enjoying it.

It's always been surprisingly easy for me to find a story to illustrate and explain things in my own life, though I don't always make use of it.  Tonight, however, I was realizing how I've been stuck in the WBW.

I don't know what it is, but I find myself falling into old habits that get me nowhere, when I have things to do that will get me to Ireland.  I can't exactly blame my job, because it's a small part of my day.  I can't even blame TV or my cycle of staying up too late and sleeping in, because those are symptoms, not the cause.  I feel like I'm in a drowsy, lazy fog like the one Diggory and Polly encountered.  And it's been keeping me from remembering my urgent task of preparing to go to Ireland.

To be fair, I do want to balance out working toward the future with living in the moment, but that's not really what I've been doing.  I've been stalling.  Dragging my feet.  And I'm not even entirely sure why.  Maybe I'm a little scared and daunted by the tasks ahead, like the large amount of support I need to raise.  Maybe it seems too far away (it's not).  Maybe I've just let myself get distracted.

But now that I've remembered who I am, where I'm going, and what I need to be doing, maybe I'll find my way out of the WBW quickly.  I could really use prayer to help me work faithfully at the tasks I've been given....One of the other Narnian tidbits that's given me a visual image came from our study: In "The Horse and His Boy," Shasta meets Aslan at the end and discovers that He was the same lion who had been chasing/helping him and his companions throughout their journey.  Being chased by a lion gave the four friends quite a fright, but it also motivated them to RUN and get to their destination just when they were growing weary.  Aslan called it "strength through fear" and I suppose I'd rather have it that way than "weakness from fear," which is more like what I've been experiencing.

So there you have it: Ireland is like my Narnia (interesting, because Lewis was born in Ireland) and I have obstacles to overcome with "Aslan's" help.  And yours!--Thanks for reading, and for your prayers.

*--By this I don't mean that I believe that everything Lewis wrote in CoN was an allegorical representation of someone or something in scripture.  The fact that the books reflect some of those truths and stories is just good story telling.  All great stories borrow their power from the One True Story.

A New Chapter

I have this ritual that I've done for the past decade or so of my life. Every year, I stay up the night before my birthday and reflect on my life. This usually involves some kind of writing, and normally it's done in a journal. But this year I decided to be different.

I'm 29 this year.

I was talking to a friend tonight, who is 20, and she was saying how she felt like she's got her whole life ahead of her--and she does. I'm nearly a decade older, and I feel the same way. Suddenly.

For a while, I was really wrestling with this whole "29" thing. I mean, let's face it. I am NOT where I thought I'd be by now. Far from it. And yet, there is a kind of freedom in that. For whatever reasons, God in His wisdom has kept me here since college. And I'm okay with that, because He's always provided for me.

But now, I sense a change on the horizon. it's like it's been there all along, just...hidden. Elusive. Tucked away.

The odd thing is, part of accepting that change means letting go of where I am now. There is an area of my life, a ministry I've been involved in for a while, that I have to leave behind, and God is using a very painful method to get me to let go. But everywhere around me, I keep hearing things that make me think that this is His plan for me. I mean, sometimes it happens this way. Caspian had to be chased out of his castle to find Narnia, right?

I'm going to Ireland this summer.

That in itself is a big deal; but I'm not going just for the prayer conference or to be a tourist. I'm thinking (& praying) about living there. Moving there. That's right, becoming a missionary.

I don't know what will happen. Maybe God will close the door, like He's closed other doors. but maybe not. Maybe it's time for me to move on again, time for another new chapter in my life.

Chesterton says: “An adventure is, by its nature, a thing that comes to us.
It is a thing that chooses us, not a thing that we choose.”

And Aslan says: "You would not have been calling me unless I had called you first."

Finally, Tolkien says: "The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began
....and whither then? I cannot say."

Would you continue to pray with and for me about Ireland? I wish I could be more eloquent about it, but at the moment, my heart's too full...I see blank pages before me. I feel like I'm still waiting for a sign; but really, I just want to feel supported. I want to know that's where God wants me.

And I want to sing, like Switchfoot does at the end of "Prince Caspian,"

I've been searching
For a place of my own
Now I've found it
Maybe this is home...

Desiring Spring

Something happens to me around this time of year.

Right now the world is gray and faded; dirty snow piles line the streets and parking lots. Trees are bare. The sky is washed out. The air is cold. I hate it, quite frankly. I long for Spring--according to the calendar, it's only a few days away. In reality, Winter still reigns.

I've been stressed out lately--just a lot of things piling up on me. Then I look outside, and everything looks as bleak as I feel. Somehow it's easier to let things get to me when there is no beauty in the world.

But early this morning, I heard birds singing. Somehow it struck me. Such a simple thing, but it signified that Winter really is drawing to a close. And those birds know it. They know it's time for them to be back here, that soon the weather will grow warmer and things will grow again.

It reminded me of so many things. There is a song by Switchfoot called "412" which says,

You watch the sun rise
You saw the darkness had no choice before the dawn
With your own eyes
And then you broke out laughing from a yawn

You said,
"I'm so sorry I've been so down.
I started doubting things could ever turn around.
And I began to believe that all we are is material.
It's nonsensical."

And I felt that way. It was like I forgot that Winter can't last forever--it has no choice but to give way to Spring. This also reminded me of John Eldredge (as so many things do) and how he talks about our Soul's longing for Spring. He says,

But after the new year, things begin to drag on. Through February and then March, the earth remains lifeless. The whole world lies shadowed in brown and gray tones, like an old photograph. Winter’s novelty is long past, and by April we are longing for some sign of life—some color, some hope. It’s too long.

And then, just this afternoon, I rounded the corner into our neighborhood, and suddenly, the world was green again. What had been rock and twig and dead mulch was a rich oriental carpet of green. I was shocked, stunned. How did it happen? As if in disbelief, I got out of my car and began to walk through the woods, touching every leaf. The birds are back as well, waking us in the morning with their glad songs. It happened suddenly. In the twinkling of an eye.

My surprise is telling. It seems natural to long for spring; it is another thing to be completely stunned by its return. I am truly and genuinely surprised, as if my reaction were, Really? What are you doing here? And then I realized, I thought I’d never see you again. I think in some deep place inside, I had accepted the fact that winter is what is really true . . . And so I am shocked by the return of spring. And I wonder, Can the same thing happen for my soul? (The Journey of Desire , 108–9)

There is this deep yearning in me for Life and greenness and newness and regeneration, and I long to see it not only in myself, but in the world around me. There are people who dislike that Holidays like Christmas and Easter are arbitrarily celebrated in conjunction with ancient pagan rituals rather than commemorating the actual date of the events. But this year, I realized something. God, in His sovereignty, allowed those dates to be used. The timing is quite perfect, actually. At least here, for us in this hemisphere.

Christmas brings light into the darkest time of the year. It's the bleakest, coldest, blackest time of the year--and what do we do? We light candles and hang up tiny twinkling lights everywhere. We use imagery of bright stars and shining angels. Because Christ came into the world, to be a light in the darkness.

And of course, Easter (more commonly known as Resurrection in my family, and now my church as well!). It is perfect as well. The juxtaposition of Death and Life--Winter and Spring--is a visual reminder of Rebirth and Resurrection.

There is something glorious in the Return of Spring, and yet it always surprises me how much I long for it. We were not made for death. We were made for Life--and Life abundant! And it seems like every year I need to be reminded of this. Some years more than others.

There's a Relient K song that I love, called "In Like a Lion (Always Winter)" which captures my feelings so well about wanting spring to come:

When February rolls around, I’ll roll my eyes
Turn a cold shoulder to these even colder skies
And by the fire, my heart it heaves a sigh
For the green grass waiting on the other side

It’d be so nice to look out the window
And see the leaves on the trees begin to show
The birds would congregate and sing
A song of birth, a song of newer things

And everything it changed overnight
This dying world, you brought it back to life
And deep inside I felt things
Shifting, everything was melting away
And you gave us the most beautiful of days

Cause when it’s always Winter, but never Christmas
Sometimes it feels like you’re not with us
But deep inside our hearts we know
That you are here and we will not lose hope.

The other night I was flipping through an old journal, looking for something particular. I ended up reading many pages on which I had poured out my troubled heart. It was written during what I believe to be one of my darkest years to date. I cried out to God about so many things, but one stood out to me. I had been incredibly lonely. In college, I'd had a great group of friends; but in Pittsburgh, the only people I knew were my family. Once I wrote that I wished I just had a group of friends to go out with, get away for a bit.

Immediately I thought of recent excursion to Seib's, a local Irish pub that has become something of a hangout for me and a few friends. The laughter and the warmth, the friendship--it had crept into my life after all. In unexpected ways, God answered my prayers. He brought new Life.

I believe that there is a longing in all of us for New Life. Perhaps it is closer to the surface at this time of year, when we are tired of cleaning off our cars and shoveling sidewalks and huddling under blankets. Maybe it's easier to recognize the longing of our soul when it's reflected in the world around us.

And into this Longing, God gives the best of gifts: the promise of new, eternal, abundant life. He even gives us a preview by raising Christ from the dead. Can anything be more amazing? Yet, isn't this the very thing that the world around us is proclaiming, shouting for all to see? There is Life to be found! The sun will shine again!

I'll leave you with one last quote, from a Steven Curtis Chapman song. He wrote it about Narnia and Aslan--which again echoes the Winter/Spring, Life/Death themes that we ourselves are facing:

And I'll watch as the cold winter melts into spring
And I'll be remembering You
Oh and I'll smell the flowers and hear the birds sing
and I'll be remembering You, I'll be remembering You

And I'll watch as the sun fills a sky that was dark
And I'll be remembering You
And I'll think of the way that You fill up my heart
And I'll be remembering You.

(That song always make me get teary. *sigh*) To, Spring, and to the Return of Life! Amen.

Wild Child

Well, I did it. I went and got a tattoo.

What? This is not a belated April Fool’s Joke. I’m serious. I went to a tattoo parlor and got myself inked for life. Yes, me.

If you find yourself asking, Why?!? allow me an explanation.

I have not always wanted a tattoo. In fact, I used to think they were rather vulgar. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to do that to his or her body. But later, I met a few people who had tattoos, and they were pretty cool. So I decided maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I revised my legalistic attitude, and instead refined my objections to three (for me):

1. It’s too expensive. (I’m notoriously cheap.)


2. It’s too painful. (I’m a wimp, what can I say?)


3. It’s too permanent. (I’m also very indecisive and somewhat picky. What if I changed my mind? What if I disliked it later?)

Then, one by one my objections fell. It started with the third issue: I suddenly realized exactly what I would get if I ever got a tattoo, and I knew instantly that it would be something I would not regret. Then I picked a place on my body: it had to be somewhere where I could see and admire it (otherwise, I just don’t see the point), but also where I could cover it up most of the time. I chose my right ankle.

After watching several episodes of Miami Ink, and talking it over with my brother and some other tattoo-minded friends, I decided that maybe I would look around for a place. I began to save up my coffee shop tips and other cash in a jar by my bed. First objection taken care of.

A couple of weeks ago, the topic came up again—mainly because, for me, it was something I wanted to do for my birthday. Of course, if you read my last post, you know I did no such thing on my actual birthday. But in talking about it, me and my bro and a few friends thought it would be fun to all go someplace together. In the end, only one friend came with me and Kyle. And she was the first one to get inked! She got a trinity symbol on her wrist. It is very cool. (But then, she’s already pretty cool. How many girls do you know who can play guitar, bass, and drums? Seriously.)

Then it was my turn. I was nervous, because of my second objection—the pain. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. It did. But not so bad I wanted to cry or anything. Just enough for me to clench my teeth and fists and be grateful whenever she stopped. But when she was done, I had my very own ultra-cool tattoo. Right now it’s just the outline. Eventually, I might get it filled in. We’ll see. The lady who inked me said to us, “Careful. They’re addictive.” I don’t plan on getting any more tattoos…I can’t think of another suitable spot, let alone another thing I would want to have on my body for the rest of my life.

But the Red, Rampant Lion that now adorns my ankle….if you haven’t already guessed, is Aslan. I took the design straight from the LWW movie. If you read either of my Narnia posts when the movie came out, then you have some idea of how important the Chronicles of Narnia are to me still—and how fundamentally they shaped my faith as a child. Aslan is to me, the best symbol of Christ. And now I have a visual reminder of that every time I look at my leg. (It’s also a teeny bonus that it very slightly resembles the red, rampant lion on the Scottish royal flag.)

It’s still sinking in that I did this, that I actually went and paid money for some woman to stick needles into me. But I like it, I really do. It still is a little tender, and right now the lines are raised and it looks a little like someone decorated my leg with icing—like a cake—instead of a tattoo. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, I didn’t go against my parents’ wishes and I am well over the legal age, anyway. My dad actually thinks it’s pretty cool, and my mom…well, I have a feeling she likes it better than the nose-ring idea I still have.

So, yeah. I have joined the tattooed masses. What’s funny about it is how it really does make me feel a little different, at least on the inside. I feel bolder, more daring. Even though most people will probably never see it, might not even guess that I would have one (and I toyed with the idea of keeping it to myself, but I was too excited), it’s there.

A fun, funky piece of body art? A permanent mar on my body? A testament to my favorite books? A symbol of rebelliousness? My tattoo might be all those things—and more. Like all art, it is what it is to you—but to me, it’s My Faith. All summed up in one little picture. Forever on my right leg.

Further In

I know this is another Narnia post, but it’s what’s on my heart. I always write so much better when it’s from my heart.

I went to see the movie again tonight for the second time, and I’m sooo glad. I even went so far as to download the soundtrack (legally) just now so I could be listening to it.

There’s been a lot of talk about this movie, and I wanted to throw in my tuppence.

First of all: Go see it.

I am being completely serious. Go. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. As soon as you can. This is a beautiful movie, and it deserves every bit of praise it can be given. I cried through most of the movie the first time I went to see it, it was so beautiful. They really did a fantastic job with it.

I could break it down for you: the acting (the children were just perfect), the scenery (New Zealand is always breathtaking, and the Czech Rep. was great for a 100 year winter set), the effects (finally some realistic animals and mythological creatures!) but what I really want to do is first offer a few thoughts.

1. If you are a Christian, go see this movie. If you have seen it, take someone else.
2. If you are a Christian who is familiar with the book, STOP BASHING THIS MOVIE!!! Whatever its flaws (and I don't deny there are a few) the essence of the story IS intact. Instead of being negative, realize the potential of the story and use it to show others a picture of Christ’s love in a disarming, touching way.
3. Do not compare LWW with LOTR. Or, if you must, start by realizing that the movies have to be different because the books they were adapted from are VERY different from each other. Simply because Tolkien and Lewis were friends, colleagues, & writing fantasy around the same time, it does not mean they wrote in the same style. At all. The two works are very different, so please keep this in mind when comparing movies.

Now, having said that, I just want to touch on the things I took issue with, and end on the things I loved (I like to save the best for last).

There was no moment of the movie I hated; but there were a few changes—mainly additions—that I wondered about. Nothing was major enough to disrupt the meaning of the story. But can someone please tell me why they felt the need to change the wolf’s name from Fenris Ulf to Maugrim?? I don’t understand.* I didn’t see the need for the waterfall/ice chunk scene, but I guess they wanted to add drama. The beavers could have been better, imo. Why didn’t they go into Aslan being a Lion and not safe but good before the kids met him? And I really wish that they had better conveyed the closeness Aslan and the children had before his death. Obviously, they must have been attached for them to grieve him so quickly, but it could have been shown better.


Now for the things I liked. The music is really good—not quite as rich as Howard Shore’s composition for LOTR, which is probably my favorite movie soundtrack (combined) of all time—but I am listening to it right now, and I am really loving it.

The acting was really excellent, and though everybody is raving about Georgie Henley, who plays Lucy (and she is quite brilliant in the role), it was Skandar Keynes (Edmund) who really stole my heart. He was just perfect, and really a sympathetic character. I just loved him. Edmund has recently become a close second favorite (human) character of all, and I think this gave him an extra edge. Sorry, I just really wanted to gush about him a moment, he really is one of my favorite parts of the movie. I have always admired how Lewis was able to make you start out disliking a character and then change the person enough so that you can actually like him in the end, barely remembering what a prat he used to be because he’s so changed.

I love the coronation scene; it still made me tear up. And I like how Lucy notices Aslan’s sorrow when everyone else is rejoicing, and that she is sad when she sees Aslan leaving; that was fitting and the closest they came to conveying that bond. Mr. Tumnus was really great, a really funny and likable character as he ought to be. I love seeing the grown-up versions of the children, even though my brother complained that they made Lucy prettier than Susan, and she really was supposed to be prettier. It didn’t bother me, because I like Lucy much better anyway. And one of my favorite things is the “real” ending of the movie: don’t jump up when the credits start, or you will miss it. Wait just a minute, and the very last scene is just a nice, fitting end to the beginning of more adventures to come.

Okay, so seriously, stop reading now and go to the movies. You saw it? Great! I’m so glad. Now go see it again. Yes, I’m serious. Okay, so you can leave me a comment first. Then go.  

*Edit: I found out that Maugrim was the original, British-version name of the wolf. So that makes sense now.

Narnia Mania

I want to tell you a story.

When I was about three years old, my father started reading “The Chronicles of Narnia” to me. I am not kidding. He adapted it to my level, of course, so that my young mind could grasp the unfolding drama. The best part was that he used voices. He even used British accents. It was great. To this day I can still hear echoes when I re-read them.

I don’t remember the very first time I heard it, but I do remember becoming absolutely captivated at a very young age. At five, I was already imitating Lucy, my favorite character (besides Aslan)—I dressed up as her for (my last) Halloween that year. There was something about the stories that absolutely enchanted me.

Ever since then, I’ve been looking for a way into Narnia.

Seriously, I could write pages and pages on how much C. S. Lewis’ stories influenced me. Actually, I did write pages—in college I wrote a paper on it.

His depiction of Jesus as a Lion—wow. Brilliance. More than that, it was inspired. Aslan is both ferocious and tender, depending on the situation. He knows when to whisper and when to roar, when to use his claws and when to velvet them. There was something about this duality, this supreme wisdom that sunk deep into my psyche. Aslan’s supreme justice and supreme mercy combined to create a God that is seldom preached from our pulpits.

I was also deeply impressed by the intimate friendship Lucy and Aslan had. Lewis would often write that Lucy “understood his moods” or correctly interpreted his growls. She seemed somehow to be most in tune with him, and when she is told she is too old to come back to Narnia, she sobs that it’s Him she’ll miss, not the country. At that point in my young life I had a very similar connection to God—innocent, full of trust and love and the assurance that He cared about me.

I tell ya, Life can really take that out of you. It’s amazing to me how much that belief has been assaulted in the past decade or so of my life. That complete trust we have when we are children is attacked as we get older; it is shaken, just like our faith in everything else around us eventually is.

But no matter how old I get, I am taken back to that sense of wonder when I re-read “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.” In the past couple of years, I have had the privilege of reading it to children. I read it to a group of (older) students at a preschool a couple of years ago, and just a few months ago to my Chinese Church kids. Yes, I use voices and fake accents. I love seeing the kids get into the story…and I love getting myself back into it. I especially want them to know the “real” story before the movie comes out in December.

I know it will be really good, very well done, probably spectacular from all that I’ve seen of it already…but nothing will ever live up to the images I have in my head. They will change things, because that’s what movie people do to books. I could write a whole other post of my disgust on that topic. And because it’s something that means so much to me, I am trying to prepare myself now for the inevitable disappointments. (Hey, I had them with LOTR, too, and those are like my favorite movies of all time.) And I am trying to overlook the hype which now surrounds the movie and stay positive, knowing that no matter what happens with the movie, there will always be the original story.

The point is, I probably am who I am today in a large part because twenty-three years ago my dad read me a thirty year old book written by deceased English author. I would not be J. M. Richards, I would not have written “Found Phoebe,” if it weren’t for my dad, and Clive Staples Lewis. That sounds like a big thing to say. But I really believe it. The love of Narnia opened up for me a whole desire for more adventures into other lands—and for adventure in general, the longing to be part of something bigger. And the symbolism, which I was able to grasp even as a child, showed me that other stories might also carry a deeper meaning.

This is something which has come to fruition in me only in recent years; but I recognize when and where the seeds were planted (and subsequently watered in large part by John Eldredge). I look back in amazement that something so beautifully simple had such a profound effect on me.

Well, I told you I could write pages on this. I could mention the beautiful Chris Rice song, “Run the Earth and Watch the Sky” [thanks to Brianne for introducing me to that song] where he mentions Aslan and the Pevensies as part of his adolescence. I could go off on a tangent and talk about when I went to Chicago, to Wheaton, and saw (touched!!!) C.S. Lewis’ desk at a special library dedicated to him and six other British authors (including Tolkien and George MacDonald). But really this post is just a tribute; The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and How it Changed My Entire Life, by J. M. Richards. Or something like that. If I sound fanatical, even evangelistic about it…well, I don’t apologize. I can only hope that someday you, too, will experience the wonder, and find your own adventurous encounter with the untamed God. Y

Turkish Delight

“What would you like best to eat?”
“Turkish Delight, please, your majesty,” said Edmund.
The Queen let another drop fall from her bottle on the snow, and instantly there appeared a round box, tied with a green silk ribbon, which, when opened turned out to contain several pounds of the best Turkish Delight….Edmund had never tasted anything so delicious….and the more he ate the more he wanted to eat….
At last the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more. Probably the queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves. …
But he still wanted to taste that Turkish Delight again more than he wanted anything else.

Recently, I had the opportunity to try some Turkish Delight. I found some in a store that carries specialty imported foods. I decided that it would not have been my first choice in that situation, and I would much rather have chocolate or cheesecake.

When I was little, my dad would make his version of Turkish Delight for my brother and I. It was based on something his father called “German” Toast (instead of French Toast)—syrup or honey on toast, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. Oh, yeah. We were incorrigible little sweet tooths. Real Turkish Delight is a gelatiny confection usually rose or lemon flavored, and sometimes covered in chocolate, powdered sugar or containing nuts. Needless to say, my brother Kyle was quite disappointed with the genuine article and still maintains that it has messed up his childhood memories.

However, there is one form of Turkish Delight that I absolutely love. In fact, I’m completely addicted. I even crave it. It is…a song by David Crowder Band.

Disney and Walden Media just released a “music inspired by” CD for the upcoming Narnia movie. It is a compilation project by today’s top Christian Artists. Which you might not think I’d go for, but I did. Mostly because it’s Narnia…but also in large part because I was intrigued that DCB did a song on Turkish Delight.

I must confess that a good chunk of the CD disappointed me. You might think that a song “inspired by” Narnia might actually be about Narnia. I did. I was wrong. Many of the songs seem to be more about the artist’s perspective of Narnia, and more about The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as an allegory than as a story. Which…would be okay…if it was only one or two songs. But several of them don’t seem to be any different than a typical Christian song talking about God and worship. They’re good pieces of music, by my humble standards, but they just don’t seem to have a lot to do with Narnia.

However, there are a few notable exceptions. Nichole Nordeman’s contribution “I Will Believe” is good and has a few really great lines in it; I’m not the biggest tobymac fan but his song “New World” is quite catchy…once you get past the fact that he practically yells “Narnia” in the chorus. My second favorite song on the album is Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Remembering You.” I couldn’t figure out why he sang “I wish you could stay,” instead of I wish I could stay, until I remembered that Aslan does leave the children after they are coronated (hope I didn’t spoil anyone!!). It makes me teary-eyed when I hear it…though not in the same way that Annie Lennox’s “Into the West” from “The Return of the King” did. “Remembering You” is both wistful and joyful, with beautiful lilting Celtic pipes (which I just adore!!)

But my absolute favorite song on the album (and I need it after all those other sappy songs start making me cry) is “Turkish Delight” by the David Crowder Band. It is the only song on the album that is from a character’s point of view dealing directly with an event from the story. A few other songs might be from a character’s point of view, like “Remembering You” might be Lucy or Susan (my vote is Lucy), and Kutlass’ “More than it Seems” sounds like it is Peter speaking.

But as you can see from the excerpt above, the DCB song is the only one taken straight from Lewis’ pages. It is soooo good. From the 70’s inspired melody (read: disco-esque) to the nearly perfect lyrics, it is a song that I have been playing over and over and over. I say “nearly perfect” because he calls it a “bit of pie”— which you now know is completely incorrect. I can forgive that, since he only used it to rhyme with “lie.” But with other lyrics like “what I wouldn’t do…it’s all I want…I gotta get another taste…the more I have, the more I want” it makes not only for a great song about the story, but in so doing illustrated the very nature of temptation and addiction in general. I think Lewis would have been pleased with that.

I know I am. (This morning I had it cranked up and was dancing in the kitchen to it. I kid you not, both of my cats came in and started at me like I was crazy. It was great.) I'm enjoying some Turkish Delight right now.