Listen to this, O Job,
Stand and consider the wonders of God.
Do you know how God establishes them,
And makes the lightning of His cloud to shine?
Do you know about the layers of the thick clouds,
The wonders of one perfect in knowledge,
You whose garments are hot,
When the land is still because of the south wind?
Can you, with Him, spread out the skies,
Strong as a molten mirror?
Teach us what we shall say to Him;
We cannot arrange our case because of darkness.
Shall it be told Him that I would speak?
Or should a man say that he would be swallowed up?
Now men do not see the light which is bright in the skies;
But the wind has passed and cleared them.
Out of the north comes golden splendour;
Around God is awesome majesty.
The Almighty – we cannot find Him;
He is exalted in power
And He will not do violence to justice and abundant righteousness.
Therefore men fear Him;
He does not regard any who are wise of heart.
-Job 37:14-24
Month: December 2018
Dawn Beckons
A wonderfully cold morning. Oh how much I relish this winter season! I walked outside my door this morning into the chill air, delightedly seeing my breath steam strong through the dark of early morning. As I drove down the interstate, listened to one of my more recent mixes, one I heartily enjoy – Clarissa. Have I posted that tracklist yet? Probably not – I fear I am dreadfully behind! I’ll share at some point. Now at my office, soon to start work. But first, enjoying a cup of hot honey-sweetened coffee as my thoughts wander and roam.
Stars Bleed Through that Velvet Black
45. The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis. Finally decided to get back into Narnia, since I’d read the first four books earlier this year(my favourite four!). Really did need to finish the series though – and I’m glad I did. I was reminded that even the lesser Lewis works are far greater and more worthwhile than the vast majority of the other books floating about. This book is an interesting one – set during the reign of the High kings and queens (Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy)…but in an entirely different area of the world. We get a glimpse at Calormen – a not altogether nice place, by many accounts – and we meet some fun new characters(I love Aravis! And Bree!). A joy to read.
46. The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis. Yes, this is the proper place for reading this book. 6 out of 7. Some people may differ with me – “but, but…chronologically it comes first!!” I most certainly don’t care. Please never read this book first in the series, because then the magic and the wonder that comes with reading Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe is much diminished. I think reading it right before the last book makes sense for various reasons (not the least of which is the fact that this is the sequence in which the book was published!). Why am I harping on this so? Because I do think that if you plan to read the Narnia series (which I highly recommend!!), most of the complete sets out there nowadays number the books in chronological order, which makes this book the first book in the series. Hence a new reader would assume (rightfully so) that he or she must begin with Magician’s Nephew. So I’m doing my part to forestall that grave error. I do remember many years ago…I’d read most of the Narnia books at various times (I’m not quite sure where, as we never owned them growing up) but for some reason I never knew Magician’s Nephew existed. So one day was at a friend’s house…and discovered this book. I apparently had a spare few hours and I profitably spent them reading this book. And I was enthralled. I knew the rest of the books, I had enjoyed reading about Narnia. And then this book…this is where it all began!! The mythical notes of this book sound strong and I could not help but be quickly drawn into the story of Digory and Polly and how Narnia began (or rather…was created!). The almost sci-fi like elements of the green and yellow rings and the portal world (…er…World between the Woods!) and the dying world with a dying sun tickled my fancy and once I was swept up in the story…the creation of Narnia begins. A wonderful, beautiful book. (But please read it sixth in the series)
47. The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis. Never my favourite of the Narnia books. Sometimes I joke that it may be my least favourite!! Part of the reason for that may be the fact that I do believe it’s not the best written of the Narnia books…the plot is a bit unbelievable at times (Narnia somehow gets co-opted by an ape and about thirty men from Calormen? Really??)…and it’s not really a fun read for the majority. The false Aslan bit, the fall of Narnia, etc. But embedded in this book are a lot of very good thoughts. The presence of a immoral, cruel, false Aslan gives rise to the belief that there is no true Aslan at all and even causes doubt and fear in the minds of the heroes of the story. The devil is the father of lies and truly he loves to twist and murder the truth, especially the truth of Christ. Unbelief is also something that we may think is a form of freedom, but unbelief very quickly turns into chains of the darkest slavery, something we can’t escape even if we wanted to (and we don’t want to). The imagery of the dwarves sitting in the stable in darkness and not seeing the true, beautiful reality – what is so obvious to those who have eyes to see. But these dwarves shut their eyes and shut their ears and believe not, for their foolish eyes are indeed darkened. So…yes, I don’t think this book is the best, but it has some good bits. And I shan’t even describe the end of the book, for I can most certainly not do it justice. But any book that brings me to tears on the last page…I can’t deny the power of the most glorious truth that Lewis is so poignantly holding a candle to.
The Chorus of the Heavens and the Sea
I hesitate to write too many words now, as much as I would like to. But this is the kind of afternoon where I crave to end it by reading my book on this couch, cosy and warm inside as the cold wind dances down the pavement outside. And see, already I start at the end rather than at the beginning as is proper. Clearly I am in more of a hazy dream-lit mood than in the correct frame of mind for writing coherent thoughts. But pardon me if I spill but a few words out upon the page nevertheless.
I really should be logging a few of my latest reads (as I am now three books behind! knocked out the rest of Narnia this past week), but I can do that later, I suppose. Right now, I am just at peace in the Lord, and I am ever so grateful. It’s been a very busy last few weeks and I have been tired and frazzled, my energy seeping away ever more noticeably as I’ve progressed through these last weeks. But now – even though I’m congested and have a cold! – I finally am at a point where I can rest. And I am ever so grateful to my God for that. This day I was able to worship at church – which of course was a refreshment to my soul. And then following…a little bit of shopping at the store and a little bit of lunch (a great leftover lunch! 2 slices of pizza, a piece of cornbread and a bowl of salad!).
Now this past hour, I decided I couldn’t sit inside any longer. The chill air called my name. So out for a walk I went. Glorious mid-40s temperature. Weather in which it is appropriate for me to wear both my turtleneck and wool coat! And so my feet trod the streets around my neighborhood – up to 11th, over to Studemont, stopped for a quick coffee at Red, then back down to White Oak and over to home. But I fear I bore you. Because obviously the route of my walk signifies nothing to no one but myself!
(interlude for the laundry – I had to step away for a moment to get my clothes in the one operational dryer we have…as all afternoon, I keep missing my chance. Not again!!)
Now where was I? Ah, describing the afternoon and my walk. Well, there is not much to say. I have been finding moments of pure joy lately as I’ve walked around my neighborhood. Why is that? Well, to put it in words is something I fear I can’t do, as I attempt to write random snippets of poetry and they are all turning out to be uniformly terrible. I have an odd soul, I’m afraid. So what brings joy to me is something that I can’t describe to you without the strong possibility of eye rolls and other such reactions. I adore the grey sky on a cold winter day. The kind of grey sky that sits as a blanket over (or underneath!?) the heavens and promises so much more than it reveals. The sky is not uniformly grey, no of course not. That would be quite boring and indeed depressing. But this is the kind of sky that admits no blue whatsoever. It is a well-cloaked sky indeed. But in various spots, there are hints of that radiance of light. The sky pulses with vibrant gradations of colour and hums with glories unimaginable. They are not all seen. But the light is hinted at. Strongly. And so I walk underneath the beautiful blanket of cloud that holds the heavens at bay. The bare-branched trees wave slightly in the breezes. They are bare now, but not always. More glories not seen. But coming soon. Leaves flutter down the street in strong alignment with the wind that courses along in such reckless fashion. And the pavement continues to move backwards underneath my feet. The sky of curious grey, bare branches of wistful trees, and the winds of winter that dance just so. My heart throbs in fierce affection for these things. See now? I told you I was strange. But it is rather nice to be walking underneath the heavens and look to the skies and look to the earth and see such beauty. It is quite pleasing to feel the cool touch of winter upon my cheeks and pull my coat a little closer. It is in moments like these that my mind is agape that I should feel in concert with the heavens and with the earth and with the seas and with the stars – in worship of the One who made us all. A leaf slowly flutters to the grass, for a moment hanging weightlessly in the wind. The sky darkens with the coming of the night. The star song approaches. It is moments like these that my soul sings.
