Detailed

The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.  ~Henry Miller

In a recent blog post, I asked my readers to comment with any and all questions they may have regarding me, my blog, my delights, or any sort of random conglomeration they could concoct.

Before you ask, no, this is not the post in which I will be answering those questions. In fact, that particular post is still open and available for more curiosities to be posed, and will be until the end of the week.

This post is a reflection of one thought-slash-question that was posed to me by a dear friend and fellow blogger. In paraphrase, the questioning statement was this:

You see such vastness and reflective beauty in such small, everyday things. How?  


I suppose that the answer is as vast and as simple as the question itself.

I just do.

Allow me to explain.

Ever since I was a very little girl, I have been captivated by this world, and by the small things to be found within each passing moment.

The delicate placement of a golden green leaf against the cracked sidewalk...the way a butterfly's wings feel as they brush your face in a brief moment of on-the-nose landing...the jewel tones of light reflecting through an old glass bottle.

Each of these things exist to be experienced. Any man can be a poet if he would only open his eyes...any woman can become an artist with her words if only she will take off her sunglasses and inhale.

I gaze with chagrin at a world that is lost in cynicism. We were placed here by the Hand of the Mightiest One of all...the most passionate Artist and the most beautiful Poet in this universe.

His beauty is inexpressible. The world only seeks to cast the barest shadow of His glory...and even these things fade into darkness in His brilliance.

I want to soak in His details.

I want to lose myself in His rapture.

That is how I want to live my life....

...as naturally as breathing.

"He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD. By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and all their host by the breath of his mouth." ~Psalm 33:5-6

Précieux (Precious)

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. ~C.S. Lewis

What makes something precious?

What is it that gives something such inestimable value that it is lauded enough to place upon a special pedestal for the world to gaze upon in wonder?

What gives someone such value?

Is it shared experience...the catch of mutual laughter, or the bond of a deep unfettered grief?

Is it the miracle of unity...the way that two people can look across a room, catch an eye, and feel the same little rush from head to toe and back again, without a single word shared?

What is it that brings simple, everyday objects to such a place of requirement in our souls...in our hearts...?

Is it the whisper of legacy behind a father's tarnished pocketwatch?

Is it the memory drawn forth in honor of a friend who made his way to heaven before us?

Things of value are few and far between anymore.

Everything is now. Everything is needed right at this moment.

Legacies are fading fast. The need for things that are precious...the sweet pain of memory and recollection...it is melting into the woodwork faster than we can hope to catch it in fleeting fingers.

But I refuse.

I refuse to let memory fade. To let things become commonplace. To let the mundane overtake the remarkable.

More than ever, we need our precious.

Precious friends.

Precious memories.

Precious joys, precious pain.

Life is precious....

...don't let it slip.

God gave us memories that we might have roses in December. ~J.M. Barrie

Traincar

I have just learned a valuable lesson regarding blogging.

You get inspired, you write it.

Immediately.

Regardless of where you are or what you're doing. You don't wait or even remotely hesitate. You just write it.

Because if you don't, you will lose really incredible stuff that your mind cooks up.

Which is what has happened to me.

Yesterday, I took the train from one city to other. I should have known that I was going to get inspired.

There was so much going through my head at that moment. And my laptop was right at my feet.

I honestly had no reason to not just reach down, pick it up, open a WORD document, and just start writing until my fingers fell off.

But I didn't.

And now I regret it.

Because I can't get back what I lost. Who knows what it could have turned into, who it could have blessed. I'll never know now.

But I guess this whole thing has taught me something in the long run.

Missing that moment -- that one, crucial little flash that you can never relive -- is such a dangerous proposition.

You never know what friendship might be destroyed...what love could be missed...what life could be lost.

We must do more than just carpe diem -- we must seize more than just the day.

We must take every moment, every breath, every flash...

...because, if you don't, you never know what important moment you'll leave along the train tracks.

Obsession (The Narnian Rant)

...there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."~Aslan, Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Everyone has an obsession. Something from their very earliest of days that has captured them...captivated them more than any other thing.

For me, it wasn't so much a "thing" as it was a place. A special, secret place only accessible to those who were chosen...chosen to slip from the wooden confines of an apple-wood wardrobe into a snow-covered pine forest with a lamp-post burning eternally at its center. A place where fauns dance, ordinary youths can become royalty, and a mighty Lion rules with Love.

When I was ten years old, my brother brought us a VHS tape of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. From the very first moments of the movie, my heart was captivated. I remember vividly sitting on that couch with my sister, hardly daring myself to breathe in case the magical spell of Narnia would break and life would once again be dull and ordinary.

From that moment on, I was obsessed. Narnia became an addition that my youthful mind could simply not release. I devoured the books, watched every film, and spent hours perusing commentaries written by others regarding this magical world that had woven its spell over me. In fact, I was so convinced that the world was real that I opened myself up to much humiliation and ridicule by my peers, often to the point of tears.

I am now twenty years old. The spell of Narnia has yet to break.

So tonight, when I went out (despite being sick) to see the brand-new movie version of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, I had wavering yet high hopes. I should have set the bar a slight bit lower, knowing what I do of Hollywood and the tendency to take a beautiful thing and fit it into a less than stellar mold. And after reading the interview on Yahoo!Movies (link: http://movies.yahoo.com/news/movies.reuters.com/plot-needed-big-changes-new-narnia-filmmakers-say-reuters), I should have prepared myself for disappointment.

And yet, the innocent Narnian child dwelling in my heart was far too excited to pay my grown-up fears too much heed.

...flash to the end of the film.

As the credits rolled, I found myself sitting next to my husband in the darkened theater, my mind in a bit of a quandary. Honestly, I didn't exactly know what to think about the film that I had just seen. If I had not been an avid fan...or rather, a long-lost citizen of the Narnian realms...I might have left that film with an air of wonder and enchantment. For I will not deny, the movie was powerful and emotional enough to ring something deep in the heart of any viewer. However, knowing what I know and loving Narnia the way I do, I felt a bit muddled up in my heart.

There were so many things that I did not agree with...however, I will limit my observations in this rant to keep from sounding like a spoiled child or an overzealous fan with too much of an opinion.

1.) Eustace called his parents "Father" and "Mother." I almost leapt from my chair. Lewis wrote within the first six lines of the book that "...Eustace did not call his parents 'Father and Mother,' but 'Harold and Alberta.'" This might seem like a very trivial matter; however, it is something that Lewis specifically wrote within the first paragraph of the book. This means it was, for some reason, excruciatingly important to him as the author, and therefore, it should just as important to us as the reader. It bothered me.

2.) The Lone Islands were nearly unrecognizable. With the exception of the name and the barest shell of the events that actually were written to have occurred there, nothing was the same! The fact that Lord Bern was in a jail cell, the purpose of the slaves, the fact that Reepicheep was not taken captive...almost everything about that particular section was so discombobulated and so distant from the original that there was not even a whisper of familiarity.

3.) On the same note as the Lone Islands...when the youths are captured by the slavers, Caspian struggles against his bonds and cries out, "I am your King!" This irritated me to no end. In the book, Caspian SPECIFICALLY tells Edmund and Lucy to tell no one that they are Narnian royalty until the political status of the islands has been determined. In fact, when they are captured, Lucy desperately attempts to tell their captors who she is, but Caspian swiftly silences her with a shout and a look of warning.

4.) The romance between the Ladystar and Prince Caspian was tremendously underplayed. For the sake of piquing the interest of the tweenie-girl element, it was made to look like both Prince Caspian and Edmund were falling for the Ladystar. However, C.S. Lewis specifically wrote Caspian and the Ladystar to fall dramatically in love the moment they met...at least, Caspian was supposed to. The Ladystar was to remain aloof for a bit before sending the prince on his way to finalize the last details of his quest.

There is more...so much more...but I feel as though I have whined enough. I will, though, add a few positive notes that I found along with the negatives.

1. Eustace was SENSATIONAL. I was immediately impressed by their choice of casting, and he will most definately make a welcome addition to the cast. His acting was wonderful -- he truly had me convinced that he was the most foul boy to ever walk the earth, and his change from fiend to fierce and valiant warrior truly touched me. In fact, he was responsible for my two favorite moments:

a) The change from dragon back to a human boy. The connection, sorrow, and shame that Eustace shared with Aslan was truly amazing, and struck a chord with me deeply. Watching the love that radiated from the Lion to the boy truly reminded me of the way my Savior views me, even in my sin. It was a dramatic and touching moment, indeed.

b) At the very end of the movie, Eustace picks up the painting and moves to hang it back on the wall. In the same motion, Lucy and Edmund slowly step out of the frame, leaving just Eustace to remount the painting. It was a very beautiful and powerful moment, almost "passing the baton" from the final two Pevensie royals to the new warrior who will usher in the end. It was truly a moment that brought me to a flood of tears.

2.) The sea serpent. Breathtakingly epic and extremely frightening for a PG-rated movie. It was truly a mark of sweet genius on the director's part. To say I loved it would be an understatement, to be sure.

3.) Aslan. Need I say any more on this one?

All in all, I have not yet given up hope on these new renditions of my favorite tales. There is still a chance for The Silver Chair, The Horse and His Boy, The Magician's Nephew, and The Last Battle to rock my world and remind me of why this land holds me in such a tight captivity. The spell is not yet broken...and I pray it never does.

Never forget -- further up and further in.

FOR NARNIA, AND FOR ASLAN!

Past

Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title. ~Virginia Woolf

The past is complicated.

There's only so much about the past that we actually want to dwell on; but even then, those few bits and pieces are tricky to deal with at times.

How many of us look back over our lives and wish that we had done things differently?

How often are our hearts flooded with "what if..."s and second guesses?

Is this why the idea of time travel is so appealing?

The idea that maybe...just maybe...we could leap through the threads of time and make a different choice...

For some people, the idea is intoxicating. For others, the idea has never even entered their minds.

It's all in how you look at it, I suppose.

The past is part of who we are. It's the stones that make up the road that we have passed over in our journey of existence.

Those old relationships...those moments we wish we could take back...those choices we desperately wish to re-do...it's all part of the masterplan, set in motion by the One who holds our past and future in His hands.

Is it always easy to look back?

No.

Are there times we catch ourselves standing on that cliff, looking over the mist-shrouded mountains of our future, and find our gaze drifting backwards to glimpse the past moments?

Yes.

Is the past important? More than we will ever know. It's what got us here.

The past is the tool of God to move us forward...

...upward...

...onward...

...inward...

...it's not perfect.

But it is precious.

Many, O LORD my God, are the wonders you have done. The things you planned for us no one can recount to you; were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many to declare. ~Psalm 40:5

Tick/Tock

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace."

~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Time is a strange master.

It is one of things that we as mere mortals cannot fully understand or comprehend.

There is a time for everything.

This reality has come harshly into the light for me in recent days. A week ago today, I found myself weeping as though my heart would shatter.

I had reached a point where one of the few solid things in my life had just been shaken to the core; I was falling like Alice down a strange sort of rabbit hole, and I had no idea when or where I would land.

I was, quite literally, lost.

My emotions were scattered across the map.

I was scared to death. My heart held a momentary burst of anger, which then melted into a sheer, rich sorrow.

And then loneliness.

And then...

...a strange, echoing silence.

It took me all of 24 hours to reach a strange new sort of reality.

This new existence -- however brief or momentary in the long run -- wasn't wrong. In fact, it was a long time in coming.

I'm not saying that I was suddenly okay with this sudden separation...the time had just arrived for a "severing," of sorts -- for such a resounding shaking of my so-called security in this particular aspect of my life that would leave me NO OTHER CHOICE but to run to my God.

And I did.

I promise, I do have a point to these seemingly random and disconnected ramblings.

There is a time for everything.

Sometimes, it takes a sharp severing -- an uprooting of a deep-set root -- for the beauty to have room to grow.

Sometimes, we need to just let go.

There is a time for everything. The hands of the clock are carefully moved by the unseen Hand of an Almighty God.

Time is not strange or alarming to God; it's an essential ingredient, a necessary fuel to His refining fire that burns away the impurities and leaves us grasping for Him alone.

The times, situations, and moments of our lives are not out of control.

They are not just whisperings of ideas cast about by the Fates or some unseen collection of deities with nothing better to do than meddle with the lives of mankind.

Our times are secure.

Because He is faithful...

..and He has a time for everything.

"You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You." ~Isaiah 26:3

Diary

The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it. ~James Barrie

Visiting the library is like stepping into another world. Shelves and stacks of books line the room from ceiling to floor...

...the rich aroma of ink and dusty volumes whisper of worlds yet hidden in bindings of leather and paper...

...but yet, between these seemingly innocent pages, is danger and mistrust and anger.

For these books are more than just words...more than stories...more than records of fiction or fact...these are the thoughts of an author laid bare before our eyes.

Their secrets are no more.

For I have not yet met a writer who was able to strip all hint of personal emotion from their work.

In fact, the thing that makes an author great is their ability to step into the pages and let their hearts do the writing.

For it is an unmistakable truth that, for a writer to allow another to read their work is to expose their soul.

It is as if we have opened the pages of our most private diary, held it out to the world and begged them...

..."come and read my soul. Feast your eyes upon my hidden mind. And please...be gentle with me."

This may be why so many of us struggle with allowing the world to read our work. It is nothing if not a terrifying idea for someone else to take something that we have poured our hearts and souls into and bring it out into the light.

Pieces of the writer themselves have become lost among the words. It's more than just a fairytale or a retelling of a historical event. It's part of our story, a scrap of our legacy, wrapped up in these fragile pages.

The work itself might be perishable, but the dreams, hopes, and fears that are represented there are enduring.

So please.

Be gentle.

Butterflies

The other day, as I was driving down my parents' driveway, something caught my eye.

A small cluster of yellow and white butterflies were darting around the wildflowers growing in the ditch.

To most, it might have been small and insignificant...a mere trifling speck on the bigger picture of my life.

But at that moment, it struck me as a more powerful, more dramatic thing than a range of mountains or a grove of redwood trees.

Why?

Because, in so many ways, I am that butterfly. Or rather, I yearn to become that butterfly. In fact, I am currently trapped in the state in which this winged flower had once found itself, perhaps only mere days before.

I am trapped in a cocoon -- a chrysalis -- of my own selfish heart and emotional whirlwinds...I am bogged down, overwhelmed with a sense of foreboding and guilt.

There is nothing I want more than to break free from this prison of self-destruction and broken dreams...

...to spread my wings and spread my fragile wings towards the warm sunlight, and fly as if tomorrow was nothing more than a whisper on the wind.

And it's then that I fall to my knees, lost in the realization of who I am and how far I have fallen from the purpose for which I have been created...

...it is then that the King of the Universe reaches down and lifts me up from the ground.
He breaks my prison.

He sets me free.

He makes me beautiful.
And He gives me wings to fly.

As the God man passes by / He looks straight through my eyes / The darkness cannot hide / Do you want to be free? / Lift your chains / I hold the key / All power of Heav'n and earth belong to Me...~"Set Me Free," Casting Crowns

Belong

If I find in myself / desires nothing in this world can satisfy / I can only conclude / that I, I was not made for here / If the flesh that I fight is at best /only light and momentary, / then of course I'll feel nude / when to where I'm destined I'm compared. ~C.S. Lewis Song (Brooke Fraser)

Every one of us wants to belong...

...wants to have a place to set down our baggage and hang up our hearts on the coat rack.

It's more than just finding a comfy apartment or a suitable house to accommodate our current needs.

It's about opening the door, stepping inside, and realizing that this is where we fit...that we have finally found the place we have been searching for our entire lives.

And for so many of us, this place will never be found here on earth.

Of course, there are those earthly places that call out to us and catch us by surprise. They are as close as anything on earth could possibly come to filling that overwhelming void.

These places have something so intrinsic about them...some small detail that captivates us, or a memory that brings us back to feelings of acceptance, perfection, warmth...

...but even these places of sheer delight -- as wonderful as they are -- cannot fully meet the needs of our hearts.

There is something missing...some sort of minute imperfection that reminds us once again of this moral coil upon which we dwell.

It's not until we stop looking down and raise our eyes heavenward that we discover what it is that we've been looking for all along.

We cannot just stand on this side of the wardrobe door, allowing ourselves to settle for this second-best reality. We need to reach out, close our eyes, and remind ourselves that something so much greater...something inexpressible...awaits us on the other side of the door.

One day, these shadows will fall away in a beam of the ultimate Light.

We will no longer have to search for where we belong...the aching feeling will disappear.

We will enter.

Further up and further in...

...with Him is where we belong.

Witness

We need a witness to our lives...in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything..you're saying 'your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go unwitnessed because I will be your witness'. ~Shall We Dance

People ask me all the time: "So, how's married life?"

This question is one of the most impossible quandaries to answer. Because, honestly, the truth is not what people are looking for when it comes to this question's complicated answer.

They want you to tell them that everything is wonderful, and has been nothing but roses and sunshine since the day you said "I do."

If I told you that, I'd be lying.

Marriage has been one of the hardest things I have ever undertaken. In fact, until a couple of days ago, I don't think I've even fully understood this cacophonous symphony we call "matrimony."

I think God decided that it was time that I had my eyes opened...and everything that I thought I knew about marriage changed dramatically right before my eyes. In the long run, it wasn't even that big of an issue; important, but not life-or-death.

It was last night when I finally realized that I had been going about my marriage all wrong. I had been looking to my husband to fill my heart up and meet my needs without fail...and in the process, Jon's heart had been forgotten.

For the past couple months, God had been trying to turn my eyes away from myself and back onto my husband's aching heart. However, I had been so lost in my own selfish, myopic world that it took something frightening to snap me back into focus.

In a way, I am Jon's only earthly witness to this life we share together.

I am his partner and his other half.

God created me to be Jon's helpmate, his bride, and his companion from the moment we said "I do" until one of us passes from earth to eternity.

I will be his witness...

...hand in hand, from this day forward.

Marriage isn't perfect, to be sure. There will be bumps, heartache, and loss. It takes sacrifice, selflessness, and unconditional love.

It's hard...

...but there will also be love, life, surrender, joy, and precious moments.

It's worth everything.