Return

Pick a star on the dark horizon / And follow the light / You'll come back when it's over / No need to say goodbye... ~Regina Spektor, The Call

Yes, this is another post about Narnia.

And I'm not even a little bit sorry.

To be honest, I didn't plan on writing another post about this magical land that has inexplicably woven its spell over my heart and soul.

But then I went to the blog of a friend and read her newest post (which you can read at http://avoiceofpraise.blogspot.com/)...and that set me off again.

Because there, in her own post on the land of Narnia, she opened another tiny wardrobe door to my soul...this one not quite as happy and fanciful as those in the past.

It was the idea of never going back.

For as much as there is a sense of beauty and passion in each visit to Narnia by each little group, there is always that moment...first tasted by Peter and Susan, and then heartbreakingly continued with Edmund and Lucy...

...that moment when they are told "you will never come back to Narnia."

To be honest, Peter and Susan's final moments in Narnia never struck such a wrenching chord in me as those of Edmund and Lucy.

Perhaps it is because Peter and Susan never seemed to need Narnia the way that their two younger siblings did.

Peter was the oldest. Proud and strong, the High King. Once there, he immediately staked his claim as a King. It was almost as if he didn't need anyone else.

Susan was the oldest girl. Beautiful, gentle, and beloved almost immediately. In fact, her pride never died, and she was the only one of the four who, once home for the final time, abandoned Narnia entirely.

It was Edmund -- the broken traitor, the forgiven one. It was Lucy -- the innocent one, the first believer, the one with the closest connection to the Great Lion Himself. These are the two that needed it more than anyone else.

And they are final of the Kings and Queens to be told that their time had come to its end.

But I will never deny that Aslan had a plan. I will never take away His credit. He knew what He was doing.

He knew they had lives to live, futures to embrace...and he knew their time in their own world would be short-lived.

For soon, they would come to Him forever.

They would pass through the Shadowlands in a loud and twisted train accident...they would pass over the silver wave, and come to Him forever.

They simply had to wait.

And while their first visits were beautiful, this final resting place was beyond all words and all imagining.

So for myself, I will visit Narnia while I may...reaching out fragile fingers from this world to the other, touching only the barest corners...

...patiently awaiting the day when I will crest the silver wave, and make my home in Aslan's Country forever.

I wait for the dream to end.

I linger at twilight...for I cannot wait for the morning.

It started out as a 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

Stars

There they stand, the innumerable stars, shining in order like a living hymn, written in light. ~N.P. Willis

I have a fascination with the stars.

There is something so intimately distant about these twinkling points of light...

...so close that my fingertips ache to reach out and brush against the velvet night in which they reside...

...and distant enough to make me tremble with a whisper of things far greater and more majestic than I.

I think the stars are God's secret way to keep me humble.

How can think of myself as any great thing when I gaze up into the night...

...realizing that the mighty hand of the King placed each one of those brilliant diamonds upon the cloak of midnight...

...and calls them each by an individual name?

...maybe this is why I love the night.

I find myself most content...most complete...when I am wandering out among the stars late at night...

...for there is something so sacred about those moments under the black sky, lit only by a flickering point of celestial brilliance.

"There are millions of stars, and I love them. But oh, My beloved, I love You so much more. You are not just one in a waving mass of faces...

...you are special...

...you are loved.

You are Mine."

"But all night, Aslan and the Moon gazed upon each other with joyful and unblinking eyes." C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian

तारों का

Yes, the title of this blog post in in Hindi.

It's pronounced "tārōṁ kā." It means "starlight."

Why am I suddenly putting up posts in Hindi?

Two reasons.

1. Hindi is a gorgeous language -- the lilting words of a breathtaking land. I have always dreamed of going to India and becoming totally immersed in its complicated language, rich culture, and heart-stopping scenery.

2. It's a beautiful word, used to convey a remarkable reality.

...can you imagine?

The beauty of standing on the marble dais of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India.

Gazing up at the millions of sparkling lights, bright against the midnight blue of the night sky.

The realization that, no matter where you are on earth, the One who placed each of those stars and knows every single one of them by name...knows me, by name.

Seven continents. Six of them are populated. There are 1,139,964,932 of them in India alone! (2008 census).

And He sees me. He stepped down from Heaven and set aside His royal status.

The hands that held the world and cradled the stars were nailed to two splintered beams of wood. The voice that rejoiced with the angels at the Creation of the world was raised to the sky, wailing in sorrow to His Father..."My God, my God, Why have You forsaken Me?!"

He died to bring me back to life.

So tonight, take a soft blanket and lay in the grass. Look up at the stars, no matter where you are in the world.

Because that soft, twinkling starlight that can make us feel so very small and alone in the world...

...should actually remind us how special we are to Him.