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.

Year in Review.

I stole this survey off of someone else's blog, because I couldn't come up with anything creative and contemplative on my own.


1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
Traveled overseas. Got a passport, had an international flight, went through customs.
Drove into Pittsburgh by myself. Drove to Missouri and back, the whole way!!


2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Um...not as well as I would have liked. I am making some resolutions, because hope springs eternal. And also because I'm making new "decade" resolutions.

And because some things just have to change!!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Well, I know a few people who had babies. Nobody that I'm super (at least in terms of physical proximity) close with, though.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Not this year, no.

5. What countries did you visit?
IRELAND!!! It was awesome.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
I would love to know what I'm doing with my life, but I doubt that will happen.

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
From '07?? Well, probably some boy related ones that seemed momentous at the time but are now irrelevant...and Jan. 2nd, when Brianne got her tat and I got my nose pierced. That was a good day in 2007.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Geez. This is tough. I mean, I think just going to Ireland was the biggest deal. I finally did it. That was a lifelong dream, to get over to that part of the world.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Sometimes the way things ended with CW feels like I failed. Or maybe just how I handled it.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just the usual colds I always get.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My camera. They say material things can't bring you happiness, but it has brought me such simple joy.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
We threw Jake a going away party...but that wasn't really a celebration. We still miss him.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
It was hard watching my brother's relationship go sour. (Sometimes it was hard to watch when it was good, too; but it sucks watching someone you love go through a bad break-up.)

14. Where did most of your money go?
Stuff I didn't need at Target, probably. And Mp3 downloads.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Ireland. Going to see Brianne. Prince Caspian. My new phone. Spring.


16. What songs will always remind you of 2008?
Pocketful of Sunshine. "This is Home," by Switchfoot. "The Call," by Regina Spektor.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? About even, I think.
b) thinner or fatter? I've probably put on a few this year.
c) richer or poorer? Slightly poorer, since my job change.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Writing. Job hunting, maybe. Yoga.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Worrying. Stressing. Complaining.

20. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?
Hopefully going downtown for First Night with friends.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
No. Fell out of love, actually. But it's a good thing.
Well, unless you count my mad crush on Zachary Levi of "Chuck."

22. How many one-night stands?
None. I could have changed that to "dates" and the answer would still be the same.

23. What was your favourite TV program?
Chuck. Eli Stone. Heroes. Lost. Bones. Pushing Daisies. Monk. Psych. Samantha Who?

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Well, it's more that an already strong disliking intensified.

25.What was the best book you read?
"Culture Making" by Andy Crouch, or "The Celtic Way of Evangelism" by George G. Hunter. Both AMAZING books. I'd put "Walking With God" by John Eldredge, but I'm not quite finished with it yet.

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I discovered that I love Coldplay. I know, they're popular and ubiquitous. Like U2. I never thought I liked them much, either. But I do, now. It's weird.

27. What did you want and get?
A camera. My new phone.

28. What did you want and not get?
A new job--something that I'm MEANT to do, you know? Some purpose and direction.

29. What was your favourite film of this year?
Ooh. Well, the sad thing is, I haven't seen a movie since July ( I know, right?!). Ironman was good, so was Get Smart. I really liked Prince Caspian, despite plot changes. HATED The Happening, but Kung Fu Panda was cute. I adored Wall-E.

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Hmm...I believe I went to Seib's with friends. Yes. Several birthday drinks were consumed. Well you only turn 29 once. Or, once a year from now on.

31.What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A sense of where I'm going and what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. That would have been helpful.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Scarves. Ballet flats.

33. What kept you sane?
My friends. You know who you are. My head would have exploded without you.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I think I answered that already, but I'll gladly say it again: Zachary Levi. Mmm.

35. What political issue stirred you the most?
Ugh. Don't get me started. I tried to avoid everything remotely political.

36. Who did you miss?
Brianne.

37. Who was the best new person you met?
I met some cool folks in Ireland.

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008?
Community. Fellowship. Vital to survival.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"It started out as feeling, which then grew into a hope.
Which then turned into a quiet thought, which then turned into a quiet word.
And then that word grew louder and louder, until it was a battle cry!
I'll come back, when you call me, no need to say goodbye."
--Regina Spektor, "The Call" (From the Prince Caspian Soundtrack)

I used this already this year, but:
"I still haven't found what I'm looking for." --U2

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.

About Time

I know what you’re thinking. You’re rejoicing that I have finally gotten around to posting a new blog. Not because you are riveted by my every post, but because you are just sooo tired of seeing my cats.

Well, so was I.

There really are any number of things I could have blogged about between then and now. My brother came home from a three-month-stint in Texas, for one. He subsequently went with me to the movies, me for the first time since Narnia, to see “V for Vendetta.” Could have done a whole post on that. Kyle then proceeded to get me hooked on Firefly, the Best Canceled Show In Existence. I could go on about that as well…but I won’t. I also keep toying with the idea of doing a MacGyver Tribute…but alas, that too will have to wait.

Really, this post is about one thing: celebration. That’s right. Not only is today Easter (or as we call it in my house, ‘Resurrection’), the day celebrating Christ’s triumph over death (Hallelujah!), but it is also the end of Lent. Woo hoo!

Those last few days were really hard, because the end was in sight. And also because I could not believe it had been so stinkin’ long since I’d picked up a book.

The first thing I did this morning was crack open Blue Like Jazz while I was in the bathroom (where my mother left it after she finished; our shared loo is a veritable library. You wouldn’t believe it.). I’ve already read it, but it just felt so good to be holding a book in my hands again.

After that, I went straight up to my room and compiled a stack of books to last me the next few weeks. (I didn’t trust myself to do it on my fast.) First on my list, by Brianne’s recommendation, is Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. Just below that is a YA novel I picked up at that garage sale earlier this month, called The Boggart, by Susan Cooper—good fluff reading. Plus, they go to Scotland!!! My internal list is very long, but as I’ve been so deprived, I probably will read what ever I feel like, whenever. I’m working the closing shift at the coffee shop tomorrow, and it will be so nice to have a book during those slow hours. My only trouble will be deciding which book to take with me!!

So, what exactly did I learn during the last 47 days? Discipline is hard. I generally don’t have enough of it. Obedience is costly, as Oswald Chambers would say. I really don’t know what else I learned…or if I was meant to. Will I ever do it again? Well…a month and a half is a long chunk of time out of every year to not be reading. But that bottom line is, if I get the nudge again, of course I will. The whole thing was an exercise in obedience to Christ—sacrificing something to show homage to He who is truly Lord of my life. Why else would I give up reading for 47 days??? Y

Trials and a New Toy

So, I got a new phone last week. It’s pretty cool. It’s one of those ones you’ve seen on Verizon commercials, where they play music for someone. Yes. It plays music. It is very cool. I do not have any kind of MP3 player yet, so I’m enjoying the three songs I’ve downloaded. I’ve spent the better part of my free time this week just exploring the coolness of my new phone.

I love when I get something new, and the newness is part of its appeal, and I spend many hours admiring my new thing—whatever it may be: a haircut, a pair of shoes, a CD…. I am also not one of those people who see in evil in new technology. Take the internet, for example. The internet has become something of a tragedy, at least morally, because of i-porn. Yet the ease of communicating with people all over the world, and the amount of knowledge contained on virtually any and every subject, makes it a worthwhile tool.

Technology is like anything else man-made: it has the potential to be used for good, and an equal (perhaps some would argue greater) potential to be used for evil. Telephones—and cell phones—allow us to talk to people all over the world. But they also interrupt our lives with sales calls, and keep us occupied when we ought to be focusing on the world in front of us instead of the person on the other end of the line (*ahem! Drivers! ahem!*). Still, I know that I would have been pretty lost these last few years if I hadn’t been able to communicate—by cell phone—with my best friends from college. Who all live several states away.

Even though I have been pretty occupied with my new “toy,” and enjoying it very much (my default ringtone is the chorus of David Crowder’s “Turkish Delight”!!!) I still have had other things on my mind this week.

One is, I recently had the most challenging day of Lent so far. I was at my Pregnancy Care Centers job, working, I might add, on a major database transfer, because we are switching programs, when we decided to take a tiny break and go take a peek at the yard sale that was going on just around the corner and up a flight of stairs from our office (which you may remember is located in the same church building where my dad works). I was looking around at all the stuff—typical yard sale stuff: stuffed animals, old happy meal toys, mismatched glasses and plates, etc. Then I saw the table of—you guessed it—books. I was immediately drawn to it, thinking surely it couldn’t hurt to look and see what they had. I hadn’t brought any money up with me, so I didn’t get anything—then.

But there was a book called “Colourful England” with pictures of old buildings (my boss showed it to me) that I wanted to come back for. She offered to spot me the money to get it, anmd I should have let her, because when I came back to get it, I ended up with an armful of books. Fourteen, to be exact. (But I got them all for $3.00!!) And as I’d stood there, pawing through the bins, glancing at the titles and occiasonlly the back blurbs, I suddenly got a sense of what it was I’d committed to for the Lenten season.

I bought a boxful of books that I cannot read, not for another twenty-eight days. I thought for the first couple of weeks that this would be no big deal, because even if I was giving up books, there were still movies to be watched. And there were always things to read in magazines, and in articles online; I hadn’t given those up. But being at that yard sale was a challenge: it was like making dinner for everyone, and tasting a tiny bit to make sure it was okay, but not eating any yourself.

I was challenged again, later that night, at the Chinese Church. It was, of course, St. Patrick’s Day, and I brought a little book to help them understand who he really was and why we have a day to celebrate him. I consulted with God on the way there if it would be okay to read it to them. But once there, I asked if anyone else would be willing to read it to the class. Several of my students took turns. (This was very hard for me because I love reading books like that to kids, and you know how children read.) When I had to help Stephen pronounce an Irish word (“shillelagh”) a couple of my kids reminded me that I was not supposed to be reading books.

Just before Lent started, I had been reading “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” to the PCC kids. They were a little dismayed when I told them of my vow to give up reading books for the next forty-seven days. So that later, on the same night I’ve been describing, I asked if anyone else would like to read a chapter to the class. No one did. I asked them if they still wanted to hear some of it. They did. I asked them if they thought it would be okay for me to read a few pages to them. They did. So I read a chapter. I’m not sure if I ought to feel terrible about this; after all, it was only a chapter, and it wasn’t for me, it was for the kids.

But reading is so…part of me. I had to remind myself this morning of why it was that I gave it up in the first place. I’m not going to exaggerate and tell you that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done; it’s not. Even though I am surrounded by books that I would normally have no qualms about snatching up and reading for several hours, it’s been nearly no trouble at all finding other ways to fill up my time. I have a sneaking suspicion that quitting the TV would be much harder, and that worries me just a little.

Well, this post is long enough for now, even despite the fact that it’s been a while since I’ve written. If you happen to see someone reading, perhaps you could offer up a quick prayer for me, that I’m learning what I’m supposed to be learning through this time. Thanks! 

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.