In Narnia Again

The Dawn Treader is probably my favorite of the Narnia books. At least, it was. As I grow, my favorites change. Lewis explains that any book that's good to read as a child should be good to read as an adult. Narnia for me is like that. But as the reason I like them changes, my favorites change too. For example, when I was little, I definitely didn't like The Silver Chair. This summer, in preparation for class, I re-read the entire series. I absolutely LOVED The Silver Chair this time through. Partially because I had just hiked through a mountain cave that week, but also, I think, because I appreciated different elements of the story. 

Last time I read Narnia, two years ago, I wanted the feel of something more, something beyond my boring, normal life. The sense of potential. Dawn Treader gives that in spades. I feel great ability, adventure, and shared excitement with the children. The Silver Chair brings out the weaknesses of the children much more strongly. It wasn't such a heroes and villains story. Sure there were good guys and bad guys and a great adventure, but there was more. I didn't need what else was there. It was just a good story, and Dawn Treader gave me more of what I needed in my life. But now I am older and I see that life is that exciting. I don't need the Dawn Treader to let me feel that feeling of journeying and adventuring. Now The Silver Chair shows me a mirror where I can see the mistakes I have and may yet make. 

Reading these books again and again as I grow helps to illustrate how lasting and true a good book is. The meaning and significance may change over time, but a good book can always offer me something important to my life, whether it's the first or thousand and first read. I still read my favorite picture books because where they once gave me limitless thoughts of grown-up adventures, now they provide me with peaceful images of childhood joy.

"The world of books is the most remarkable creation of man nothing else that he builds ever lasts monuments fall; nations perish; civilization grow old and die out; new races build others. But in the world of books are volumes that have seen this happen again and again and yet live on. Still young, still as fresh as the day they were written, still telling men's hearts, of the hearts of men centuries dead.” -Clarence Day

Seeking the Wandering

Often you hear of Christ the Good Shepard searching for His lost sheep. Usually this conjures up images of various Mormon paintings and the idea of a lost soul wandering in sin. The "black sheep" are also the "lost sheep." They don't know where they should be, and they really don't care. Tonight, as I was reading for my New Testament class, I read a story that changes that image for me.

In John chapter nine, the story is told of a man, "blind from birth" who is healed by the Savior. After he is healed, the man returns to his home and is seen by many who know him as the one who "sat and begged." The Pharisees claim that whoever healed him is a sinner because he healed on the Sabbath, but others argue that a sinner can't perform such miracles. The city is in an uproar. They go to the man's parents, demanding to know the full story. The parents decide to stay out of it. They affirm that the man is their son, and tell their friends "he is of age; ask him: he shall speak for himself." I immediately thought of a man about my age. Across cultures and ages, 21 has been the basic point for a man to come of age, give or take a few years. If he wasn't my age, this man was probably younger than me.

As the interrogation continues, he resolutely sticks to his faith in the man who healed him. When asked once more to explain how it happened, "He answered them, I have told you already, and ye did not hear: wherefore would ye hear it again?" When his testimony is bluntly rejected, he is cast out from the city.

Now comes the important part. Jesus often seems to wander around the Judean countryside with little purpose or direction. On His way, He meets people and performs miracles. But verse 35 says "Jesus heard that they had cast him out; and when He had found him, He said unto him, Dost thou believe on the Son of God?" He had heard that someone had been cast out for His sake, and He found him. That means He was searching. The Shepherd was seeking His lost sheep. But this sheep wasn't a sinner. This sheep was a faithful follower of Christ. He didn't know where he needed to be or what to do, but he was firm in the faith of what he did know.

Every faithful disciple of Jesus has days where they feel lost and alone. This world is scary and confusing. It is impossible for us in our mortal life to always know where we should go. But we can be sure that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is always looking for us. He will be there and seek us when we stumble. As we wander the hills of this world, trying to find Him, He is walking them too. He searches for us, calling our name. As we call back to Him, we will eventually come Home and dwell with Jesus and Our Father.

I know that God lives. I know that Christ is my redeemer. I know that He will continually seek us and not allow us to become lost so long as we are searching faithfully for Him. As we search prayerfully with faith, we will be aided in our journey home.

Off a Cliff into the Sky

Last week, I felt like I had hit rock bottom. Either that or I had just jumped off a cliff and was falling rapidly to the ground. Life was out of control. I couldn’t go back. Where I was, no one would come. I didn’t want them to, it was too bad. Only Christ could come, and that was because He knew the way out. But I didn’t look to see. I just curled up into the fetal position and tried to ignore the situation.

And then my dear friend Heather ignored my grouchy demeanor. She could tell I would probably snap at her, but she didn’t really care. Or if she did, it didn’t faze her. The fact that people could still get to me where I was is probably what snapped me out of it. As the realization of where I was at, where I had come to, sunk in, I finally uncurled and looked around. The night was still dark. At 1 in the morning, all I knew was that Heavenly Father loved me enough to keep two worthy young men awake to come and give me a blessing in response to a single phone call. At 3 in the morning, all I knew was that I was lost. There was a path I was supposed to be on, and I couldn’t see it.

Thursday felt like a long, slow climb. I was trying to enjoy the last day a very important friend would be in town. I was trying to understand where I found myself. I wasn’t ahead in classes any more, and my head was almost constantly hurting. I told my supervisor that I didn’t feel well, and probably couldn’t come to work the next day. I also had a test Friday.

My friend who was leaving told me it was a wall, not a pit. He said I just had to find the way around it. I still haven’t, but I’ve found something better. It wasn’t a wall. I was right at first. I was either in a pit or falling off a cliff. For us earth-bound mortals, that is terrifying. But I’m not meant to be earth-bound. The fear carried on, and like any rational being, I wished I could fly. I stretched out wings I didn’t have two days ago, just to find that overnight, they had grown. Weak and new, I could barely glide. Even now, I’m just coasting, but each day makes them stronger. The ground is no longer hurtling toward me; the pit doesn’t seem so deep.

As I learn to fly, there will be harsh cross winds and bad weather. But there will also be amazing views and sweeping sensations. I no longer need to fear heights. I can reach as high as my wings can take me. Heavenly Father has let me fall as low as I was willing to let myself go, and now He has given me wings to return again and beyond. I will follow His instructions and make the most of my angel wings.