she walks up to the lighthouse
as i in fear linger behind
dare i follow or speak a word?
or would it be folly to presume?
and so i watch her step up to the door
in a second she’s gone inside
and i tremble and look up to the stars
even as their beauty overwhelms me
my thoughts flee and i let out a sigh
no matter where this day ends up
no matter if my heart stays broken
i still am anchored by the oath i have given
and held tight by the love i have known
and i too am counted beautiful
and named even as the countless stars
so i name her now in my heart of hearts
and hurry up the path she trod
Harp Song
Silver water slides underneath the bridge and I feel an urgent desire to shed my shirt and shoes and jump right in. Usually I can push off mad thoughts such as this but not this time. Off comes my shirt and off come my shoes and I climb over the railing and balance on the lip of the bridge. I stretch my back and legs and then push slowly up once as I hold on loosely to the rail behind. The sun beats hot upon my head and I feel the sweat begin to trickle down my neck. The swift water below looks absolutely delicious. I once more slowly press down upon the bridge with my toes and then I force myself past the point of no return and off I leap. The water rushes toward me as my stomach leaps in protest as I have a half second to wonder if I’ve perhaps made a mistake. Never mind! My feet hit the water and my flailing arms and head soon follow. Ah I am cool and I am washed and oh boy is it cold! I immediately splutter to the surface even as I feel the water rush me onwards. I let it. I’m floating backwards and can’t quite see where I’m going but I know the river runs straight for a good half mile at least and I’m not overly concerned of stray rowboats. So I lie back and let the waters carry me on as I feel the sun smile down upon me. Its warmth feels good now. I am a part of the river and the river is a part of me and together we in unison dance with the sky above and the breeze that leaps between. It is a good dance, a rollicking affair. I am not at all mad about my choice, no matter what Madeleine may say later on. Up on that bridge I was a remote observer, standing upon concrete and mind elsewhere. Now? I am living true as the river carries me on. My mind is in the moment and present and oh so focused on the fact that I am in this river and I am breathing fresh air and I feel cold and hot at the same time and it is glorious and I hear creation’s song.
Astonished
A few little thoughts on a few little books this lazy Saturday.
45. The Gold at the Starbow’s End by Frederik Pohl. A collection of sci-fi stories by Pohl, this was a random free pick-up from an airport’s donation shelf. Win! I enjoyed a few of these stories but have to confess that Pohl’s style just may not be for me. Felt a bit dated and though some of his concepts were interesting, the tone was a bit overly cynical and the mood a bit dour. Not for me.
46. Bionicle #1: Rise of the Toa Nuva by Greg Farshtey, Carlos D’Anda, Randy Elliott. Right so throwback time! Reading this little graphic novel (less of a graphic novel and more of a compilation of the first few Bionicle comics) just filled me with all the nostalgia. I remember reading these comics back when they first came out when I was a kid, believe back in 2000-2002 or so? So reading this now was an exercise in happiness and warm sentiment, to be sure. But I do have to confess that I think I really only enjoyed this for the fond memories. Because of the way Bionicle lore and story was unfolded, these comics felt a bit scattered and partial at times, only telling small snippets of story. The rest of the story was told in some of the games and online resources that were out at the time. So I did not entirely remember all the interlude bits and found myself a bit confused! But hey ho, the art was still as gorgeous as I remember and reading this just made me smile. I still remember the wonder I felt at reading that first comic, watching a world come to life before me in all its mythic glory. And I will always fondly remember this franchise for the part it played in my own development. Not sure if I’d be a writer today if it were not for my first fumbling attempts exploring the Bionicle mythos back in the day!!
47. Silas Marner by George Eliot. A wonderful book. As soon as I started reading this book, I sighed in satisfaction, realizing anew how much I love Eliot’s writing and how beautifully she tells a story. This is a simple story in a simple setting, but oh is it told well. While at times Eliot can get a touch overly didactic and the narrator’s voice can intrude a bit more than I would like, I still love how Eliot treats characters and so beautifully shows how the decisions we make in our life affect the meandering course of our precious souls. There are some powerful moments in this one and some moments that made me smile for the beauty and truth contained therein. One of the minor characters unveils her philosophy around chance and providence in a way that made me lift my head and ponder as the simple statements she made in dialect contained some of the most powerful and encouraging truths I’ve read in fiction in a long time. I really loved this one. And I would strongly recommend it as a great introduction to Eliot to anyone who’s not read her yet. It’s so short in comparison to some of her others!
Hear Ye Now
And behold, a violent storm developed on the sea, so that the boat was being covered by the waves; but Jesus Himself was asleep. And they came to Him and woke Him, saying, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing!” He said to them, “Why are you afraid, you men of little faith?” Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, and it became perfectly calm. The men were amazed, and said, “What kind of a man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?”
-Matthew 8:24-27
What words are these! Mightily struck by reading the above this morning and ever so encouraged. Who is Jesus? This passage forces us to grapple with the question. He is one who is human – he needs sleep! – yet also one who holds divine power. Who holds such power over the very forces of nature? No mere man. This passage also has moments of humor – Jesus asks the disciples why they are afraid. If I were them, I would simply point to the sea that is even now swamping their boat! But in this question, Jesus is also gently rebuking them. They have already submitted themselves to Him and acknowledged his authority. But clearly their faith is at a weak point here and their verbal acknowledgement of Jesus has not yet extended to full understanding of who He is and a simple trust that clears away the daily anxieties of life. So do we too fear and doubt and worry and fret each and every day, forgetting that Jesus holds our hand and is united to us in a reality too wonderful to imagine. And that leads us to the last question the disciples ask, which is the only appropriate one to ask here. The disciples ask, “What kind of a man is this?” Indeed. We are united to Christ and we can delight in that fact. But do we realize that Jesus is not a mere man or a wise counselor or good buddy but…in actuality God Himself, containing all the fullness of deity and lacking none of his glory? Consider Jesus.
The disciples have weak faith and are feeble and frail in this passage, as so are we each and every day. Yet look at how they respond here. Despite their weakness, they respond just as we should. They go to Jesus, knowing that in him is their salvation. And then they consider the nature of Jesus and wonder. So too let us remember that only in Jesus is there any hope. The storms may rage and the seas may crash around us – as they so often do. Go to Jesus! And let us meditate more on Jesus, on who he is and what he has done for us who cry out to him. Oh how beautiful it is to think on Jesus and ponder His nature and wondrous glory. Jesus is our delight, our hope, our light and our song and our only salvation. We have salvation in nothing we have done. We have fullness of life and eternal delight only through Jesus. Who is Jesus? He is very God and very man, the way of salvation as eternally and divinely decreed in perfect wisdom and extravagant love. What makes our heart beat so in expectant hope and dawning joy? Consider Jesus.
Of An Evening
There’s a story that I know, a story full and rich in its beauty. I oft times think on it and linger in the feeling that this story brings. You may wonder what story it is and why I get so choked up when I talk of it. You may think it’s just words on a page or a song sung low on an evening as the sun slowly sets. What of it that you let your tears fall freely or that in the spirit of this story you write so much poetry? I know my friend I know it seems odd that this one story controls my life and sets me on the path I have been walking e’er so long now. Yet if you would read it for yourself and taste and see, I wager too that you would find it true. Come and read this story about Jesus, the one who in perfection and love unyielding laid down his life that we would know life as it was meant to be lived. This is life, knowing and being known by the living God as revealed in this very same Jesus Christ. Consider that this may possibly be true. I have considered and I have set my hand to the plow and I walk on.
The Shack Downtown
Hello friends! A few words this evening before I turn my eyes to better things. It is good to rest this Sunday and consider the works and words of God. I am grateful for days of rest such as this one and even more grateful for the true eternal rest that is mine in my Jesus forevermore. This morning before church was able to find a few minutes to enjoy my coffee and read in the Scripture and was most blessed by my reading as I stepped through some of my favourite passages. Firstly, as of today I have begun the epic trek through Isaiah. Truly one of my favourite books and I’m so excited to read it these coming weeks!! I say weeks as I doubt it will be days – at least it certainly shouldn’t be as that would mean I’m reading it much too quickly. And I also read a bit in Matthew – been lingering in Matthew 5 these past few days, wondrous words from Jesus that he preached oh so many years ago yet still they ring strong and echo throughout the world in their beauty and their truth. Reading Isaiah and Matthew together? Perfectly marvelous and I’m most eager to see their resonance. Today as I read, was particularly struck by the authority and majesty of Jesus as he said words that could only be said by one who in himself held sovereign power. His words rang with authority and people marveled at them. Take in these words which he said – “Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill.” That verse hit me hard today. As I now read through Isaiah I should not consider it full of dusty dry words that are now of no account because of the coming of Jesus who has made all new. No, instead I should read the words of this prophet and consider that they are words that are fulfilled and made all the sweeter in the full light of the mystery unveiled in Christ – the divine plan of salvation that is now revealed for the world to see. And consider the authority in that statement – “I did not come to abolish but to fulfill.” Not some wimpy statement indicating that perhaps some of his deeds would by chance fulfill a prophecy or two. No, Jesus came to fulfill in his very person and with full intentionality and in the fullness of his nature as God and in the fullness of his nature as man he came to bridge the gap that the grand story would come to its climactic moment in which God now offers full communion to fallen man. What a marvel, what a story!
And it is true and it is real. Jesus did not come to abolish all that has come before, even the words of God that rang throughout the millennia. Nay Jesus in and of himself came to fulfill. Jesus is the fulfillment of the promises of all the ages going back to the first echoing of the gospel as the serpent’s death was prophesied at the the bruising of the conquering Seed. Consider how this Jesus was bruised for me, for you. He was beaten and bruised and even for us was pierced, crushed, chastened and scourged as laid upon him were the iniquities of us all. Consider the blood that ran fresh from the cursed tree as this Jesus died for you and for me. Consider Jesus, the one of whom that spear was run through swift and true and of which the water and the blood testified that it was finished true. Consider Jesus, the one who bore the sin of many and who even now intercedes for us. Consider Jesus who did not come to abolish but who came to fulfill and now that it is finished sits at the right hand of the Father, the work done now and for all time, no more need of any further sacrifice. Consider Jesus and his blood which was given for you and me, for all who in him alone would bow the knee and only in him rest and believe. Consider Jesus, whose yoke is easy and burden is light, the one who offers rest to us because he knows our toils and our pains. Consider Jesus, he who died and rose again to life victorious, conquering death and its train forever as he trampled upon that cursed serpent’s head. Consider Jesus, our only hope in life and death. Consider Jesus.
Adventure
The light fades in the western sky. I would love to see the stars this night but I know it is rather unlikely. Instead, I shall set my back against the sun-warmed rock and pull out my notebook and attempt to scribble something worthy of what I have seen this day. My whole life I have longed to witness the grand and beautiful and be a part of something bigger and greater than myself. I have longed to be living a story that could properly be called epic.
Yet as any seasoned reader knows, it’s a perilous thing to wish to live in the stories that so often thrill us. The highs are high yes. But oh the lows. The pain and the anxiety, the heart pounding in your throat and the bile rising as you fear you’ll lose all you ate that day. I do rather wish now to go back to my little town and enjoy a quiet evening by the fireside.
I saw death today. It’s the first time I’ve seen it up close in the raw and wild. And it was a friend. I will talk of her later, I don’t think I can bear to think further on her now. We started this quest together in joyous abandon, sure that it was our destiny and what had been writ for us in the stars. Now a bare few weeks into our adventuring, she is gone and I remain and there are no stars this night.
Jester
The giant strolls across the moors
and I point my hand across the way
see there he is!
see there he goes!
see there the clouds raised
by his mighty toes!
I sit against the rock on the riverside
and pen a ballad to be sung that night
I wonder if she’ll be there
that lass I love to mad distraction
that lass of the chocolate eyes and raven hair
but now this tale may end in abbreviated fashion
I jump up with alarm as the quaking grows nearer
the giant has come to investigate it seems
why a shepherd boy lazes away by the stream
I hoped to avoid his notice
but alas it seems this tale will have an ending different
than the one I would preferred to have written
instead of the mighty warrior holding court as his words hold sway
we end with our poet lad running fast away!
That Peculiar Summery Shade of Green
Hello friends! It is Memorial Day and while I’m grateful to not have a full day of work, Dani and I are both a bit saddened that our sick and weary bodies are keeping us from enjoying a proper day off. Ah well. I had a nice little walk when I woke up this morning (walking the MKT trail before 7am is always fun – you see the real ones!) and Dani and I went for a grocery store run a few hours back, but apart from that? We have had a most lazy and quiet day. I guess that’s good? My chest congestion continues to linger and annoyingly enough I’d even guess I have a small fever just now. But someday I pray my body shall recover and I will feel healthy again. Someday! I’d also like to write something creatively. Perhaps after I dash off a couple quick book reviews. It made me happy yesterday to write a little prose, as feeble as it is at times. Ah writing always relaxes and invigorates my mind. I need more such sessions. But as I seem to be rambling on without end, let me talk a bit about a couple books and then we shall see if my rambling extends to more poetical endeavors.
43. The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie. It had been far too long since I’d read a Christie, and after finding a few new ones I’d not read before at local used book shop, was hankering to dive right in! This one scratched the itch and it made me happy (albeit confused) as I read. Christie is her usual masterful self in this one. All new characters in this – not a Marple or Poirot to be found! – and I enjoyed as always the little window into 1920s Britain. The slang is always amusing and I don’t know, I just enjoy seeing the interactions between the young men and women in this – made me realize that things haven’t changed that much in the past 100 years! The mystery was solid too – though I did get a little suspicious partway through and half-guess the villain, it wasn’t by any means obvious. Typical Christie finish here, with plenty of twists and turns and very satisfying denouement. Glad I picked this one up.
44. A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L’Engle. In the mood for something homey and real and encouraging, I grabbed this from the shelf as it’d been a while since I’d read it. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. Full of L’Engle’s typical mix of the mundane and the ethereal, I found myself quickly engrossed in this tale of a young girl growing up one summer as all changes around her. I love the family dynamics in this one, I love the conversations, I even somehow love the various interactions Vicky has with her 3(!!) suitors, even though I think I remember that annoying me first time around. I do love how L’Engle writes dialogue and back-and-forth conversations about serious matters. Though I don’t always agree with some of the particulars of L’Engle’s theology, I love how she asks the questions and truly engages with the possibilities raised by this broken wounded world we live in and a God who is real. This book also has L’Engle’s penchant for the strange and beautiful as we vicariously thrill through Vicky as she swims with dolphins and touches the faint after-images of the divine touch on creation’s weave. This book isn’t perfect and there is one character in particular I really don’t quite like – oh Zachary Gray! – but at the end of the day reading this book was a comfort and joy to me. We need more books like this in the world.
Sabbath Meditation
I sometimes wish I lived in a little cottage at the top of a cliff overlooking the sea. It sounds picturesque, does it not? Imagine hearing the waves crash ceaselessly against the rocks far below. Look far out across the grey sea and smile as you imagine the sunset that is soon to be. Take a walk in the garden and feel the wind whip against your shoulders as you hear the gulls cry in melodious cacophony. Well, perhaps strike that last. But still, can you imagine sitting on the porch of your little cottage watching the soft rain fall and with a book upon your lap breathing deep the sea air? Perhaps you have a little lantern next to you for that light which becomes necessary as the sky slowly darkens. And inside you know the pot of tomato sauce bubbles away and perfumes the air for the moment when you shall step back inside to stir and inhale the scents of garlic and oregano. I think of what it would be like to have a cottage as I have described and I smile. Maybe someday. But also I know there are drawbacks to such a life. How far away the grocery store, I wonder? Perhaps thirty minutes, perhaps more! And if it is storming, of course I would not risk the muddy drive. And where are my closest friends? Perhaps not nearby. I would be lonely at times, lonely enough that my heart be sore to hurting. And the nearest library would be quite a distance away and I would know all the books on all the shelves by the sixth month, surely. But then, I suppose in this little cottage of mine I could build quite the cosy little library, could I not? So no disadvantage that.
But still my heart yearns for a quiet little home on a cliffside far away. Though at times I would miss those whom my heart holds dear, still it would do me good to gaze upon the beauty of that wine-dark sea each and every day. There is something in my soul that craves such. I would love to walk the garden path and lift my eyes to the stars above and pray to God aloud and relish the fact that He hears me true and sets his hand upon me in firm affirmation of my place at his feet. But then, I suppose I need not a cottage for that last. I can even now on my couch in this little city apartment raise my eyes to heaven and cry out to the God who knows my name. Maybe someday I’ll have this cottage to call my home sweet home. But for the now, I smile and rest in the fact that eternal life is mine no matter where this feeble frame resides. Someday I shall receive the call that even now eternity in my heart prepares me for. Someday I shall walk the garden path with the God who knows my name. Someday soon even I shall see that perfect beauty for which my soul longs. Someday I shall look into the eyes of Jesus.
Something Weird 