For Narnia!

In my C.S. Lewis class we are currently reading The Chronicles of Narnia in class. Unfortunately trying to write a blog post out of Narnia would take forever, so I am not going to spend too much time on it.

The main thing I wanted to talk about was something I actually learned a few years back about myself and about Narnia. But first...let's give a little history on the matter...

My parents read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe aloud to me when I was probably in kindergarten. As a lover of almost all books, fantasy in particular, I was quickly drawn into the land of Narnia. My time of adventuring there as a child was wonderful. I recall meeting Aslan for the first time, going on adventures with the Dawn Treader, and watching in awe as Narnia was created. I was so captured by it that I literally would try to find ways to get to Narnia myself, convinced it had to be real. I remember continually checking closets in my house, particularly my parents' wardrobe upstairs. But sadly no magical land awaited me in any of them.



My enchantment with Narnia had to be one of my earliest connections with Christianity. I grew up in the church, true, but I had no true love or interest. I went because it was expected of me, though I know I enjoyed it often. However, it was Narnia that truly first connected me to God.

God seemed like a far off figure in my childhood mind. I didn't really see him as anything personal or particularly loveable...though Jesus was nice because he was always pictured with little kids on his lap. Still, convincing a child to love God is hard, because God is not visible and for a child most of the ways they show love are through tangible things like hugs, or cuddling, or even helping with a chore. But Aslan was altogether different.

I read in a book on C.S. Lewis recently that a woman sent a letter to Lewis telling him that she was concerned because her son claimed he loved Aslan more than he loved Jesus. Lewis responded to the woman by telling her it was impossible for the boy to love Aslan more than Jesus because they were essentially the same person. So, in my childhood, loving Aslan more than Jesus was the first way I really connected with Jesus in the first place.



Childhood stories force a child to ignore the fact that they cannot see something. They are forced to use their imaginations rather than actually having something to look at. So for Aslan was one of the first things I was forced to truly imagine, and I did. I had a wild imagination as a child, and that image of a beautiful fierce lion that was both scary and good painted a vivid picture in my mind. So vivid and lovable that I even forced my mother to buy a giant stuffed lion for me in a thrift store one day that I promptly named Aslan.

The point of all this of course is to show that for me Aslan was my first tangible picture of Jesus. He was like a friend, as many of the characters in stories are to me (as a book lover of course), and through that I had a connection with God I would not otherwise have had. It also gave me a better understanding of the Christian stories like the Crucifixion because my parents strongly emphasized to me that Aslan was representing Jesus. I actually recall my mother reading The Magician's Nephew on the steps of a church in France before reading some of the creation story in Genesis and showing me how the two stories were so similar.

Narnia was in many ways a strong connection to my faith, and it remains one for me today.

As a girl I always loved Lucy the best. And who doesn't. She is an amazing picture of faith and trust. Nonetheless, as I got older my perspective shifted a little.



I am the oldest child in my family. I have a younger brother. On my mother's side of the extended family I also have two other younger cousins. I am oldest. And it is for that reason that I started to connect more with Peter as I grew up (although it helps that the actor is attractive too!).

Peter and I both knew what it meant to be oldest. Sadly we are expected to be the most grown up. We still are children, and yet we have responsibilities. We need to take care of those younger than us, or at least set a good example. There is so much pressure, and such a need to prove oneself in the world to set a standard for those following. Older children are often expected to shine above their younger siblings. Something which is hard if their younger siblings are outdoing them in some way. To those who think being younger is harder, they both have their burdens to bear.



Though Peter is a good character at heart and perhaps the second strongest of the children in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (because Edward betrays them and Susan is overly critical about everything) he has a number of tragic flaws. It is partly because of his role as oldest. He is under pressure, he is trying to act more grownup (which his siblings don't like, but nonetheless need). And in these areas sometimes he forgets about having faith and relying on Aslan rather than himself. Peter in many ways is a perfectionist, someone who is willing to shove aside his beliefs in order to do things the way he thinks they need to be done.

A few years ago I realized that I was acting like Peter in my faith. I was trying to do things my way rather than God's way.  I wasn't listening to God. I was watching Prince Caspian at the scene where Caspian and Peter are arguing about the best strategy and Lucy encourages Peter to turn to Aslan. My circumstances at the time were so similar to Peter. I was trying to make a decision, and instead of realizing that there was more than one option and that God would take care of me, I was trying to forge ahead on my own.



Since that day I have never forgotten what I learned. I will always in many ways be a Peter because of my personality, and because I am oldest (I think it significant that Lewis was a younger child...which might contribute some to making Lucy and Edmund both somewhat stronger characters). However, I can choose how I base my decisions, and remind myself that in life sometimes I need to be more of a Lucy than a Peter.

So as I set off into the real world, I will raise my imaginary sword high and cry "For Narnia!" while remembering, that even in my awesome shiny armor with my beautiful sword I am just a simple girl, and that sometimes a small simple girl with faith is more important than a warrior with courage.

Surprised by Joy

Another late night inspiration post.

I recently read a few excerpts from C.S. Lewis' Surprised by Joy. I enjoyed it a lot, and actually may try to read the whole thing on my own time (if I ever find some). However, it was this evening that some meaning from that book really struck me.

One of the aspects C.S. Lewis highlights in his book is the meaning of Joy in the Christian life. He describes his own experiences of discovering the unimaginable pleasure of Joy as a small child, and how the instances of this grew in number as he aged (though he had some doubts about them at later points). Even so his description of childhood joys were of simple pleasures such as reading Beatrice Potter's Squirrel Nutkin books, or reading an ancient poem, or even in a small flower garden. And it is in the last few days that God has been allowing me to have similar experiences.

I first recognized it tonight while walking to an art gallery with some friends. I was staring at the sunset captivated by the orange tinge of the sky where the horizon lay, and the softer blue that lay further up. It was beautiful. Not in the extreme beauty of a sunset full of magnificent shades of all varieties of colors (red, orange, pink, purple, blue, etc.), but in a more quiet and simple way. The two simple tones of color, the soft evening air, the fluffy clouds being slowly cast into darkness, all contributed to a remarkable feeling.

Similar to this

It at first reminded me of excitement. It was the butterflies in the stomach kind of feeling you get on Christmas morning, but I quickly began to realize it was more than that. It was this spreading warmth within me, this sense of awe, of goodness, of quietness, and above all of peace. It was this moment where my heart and soul suddenly spoke aloud, declaring the goodness of God for this creation. I was actually so enraptured in it that I fell behind the group I was walking with and had a few friends worry I would get left behind. I was so wrapped up in it, I actually pushed a few of them away, trying to grasp for a few more minutes that incredible awe inspiring feeling. It was one of those moments where I did have the unmistakable desire to be alone, to savor a brief and perfect intimacy with God.

I actually was lucky enough to experience that joy later in the evening as well. At the art gallery some of the pieces just grabbed on to a piece of me. I again was overwhelmed with what Lewis would call Joy. It was beautiful, and so fulfilling and real to me. I stared at a photo of a bundle of soft juicy grapes wrapped up amongst the delicate detailed leaves, and I wondered at the amazing intricacy which God created. From large peaceful sunsets, to vivid small grapes, God created every piece of it, and He daily allows me to see his beautiful creation.

Something like this

Of course the mood was spoiled by one of my friends pointing out an "obvious" flaw in the picture which made it unworthy of true artistic consideration. I am sad to say Joy fled fairly quickly, but I allowed it to pass in the realization that while the photograph was real, the flaws only emphasized how we can never truly recreate the beauty God has made. We can only hope to make slightly flawed copies.

With all this in mind God has begun opening my eyes to the moments of Joy he has put into my life. Like C.S. Lewis these do not have to be from incredibly Godly things. They can be pieces of art, or a beautiful piece of literature. In fact just the other day I remarked on facebook my Joy in beginning to read Les Misérables. I was struck by the beauty of the language, and I felt that familiar tug at my heart, that rush of longing and desire for something greater, because I know what I am experiencing is a mere taste of the Joy and beauty that is placed in heaven awaiting us all. 

Missing You

Disclaimer: Readers must read to the very end to understand the author’s view of the subject. If you break off after the first few paragraphs you will not truly understand. I am not trying to be rude to anyone, but am simply expressing some important things I am learning.

A great idea that I have been struggling with throughout my last year in college is the idea of missing someone. This year of separation from old friends from high school has caused a variety of different responses amongst my friendship circle. Some have skyped, facebooked, emailed, written letters, and declared in every single one of those times “I miss you”. Others have seen me over breaks and genuinely declared “I miss you”, in spite of their lack of communication. Still others have declared either outright or through their actions: “I do not miss you”, which has caused a good deal of anger, hurt, and resentment within me…most of which I am realizing are not justified.

                                  

As I stated in an earlier blog post I am a very loyal person. I actually have been playing around with personality tests lately and discovered myself to be what an ISFJ (Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging). While these tests do not have very much scientific basis they are interesting, and have amused my friends and I while we procrastinate. My personality profile declares me as a person who doesn’t make very many friends, but when I do I cling to them with all my heart.

So for me having friends who I have spent so much time with push me away has been hard. I have struggled with it to a point of wasting time simply stewing over it. My writing over the last year had two mentions of what it meant to “miss” someone.

Nikolai slowly approached her, taking her hands. “I know, but even if I go I’ll still miss you.”

“Miss me?” Cara said with a laugh. “Nikolai, the only time you miss me is when you need me.”

“That isn’t in the least bit true,” Nikolai said with a frown.

“Isn’t it?” Cara said, raising an eyebrow. “You are a cruel man, Nikolai. You have no heart. You don’t miss those who you leave behind, no matter how close they are to you. You don’t miss your family, you don’t miss your friends and you certainly don’t miss me.”

“I...Cara...I...”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Don’t speak. I know the truth, and even though it hurts, the wound in my heart will eventually heal. Now, kiss me goodbye.”

He reluctantly did as she asked. But when he pulled away his face was grim. “It’s true I may not miss you. But you know how busy I am. And besides, I’ve come back to you, Cara. Isn’t that what’s most important? That I come back?”

She laughed softly. “Mmm...perhaps it is. But for the record never tell me you’ll miss me again....you don’t have to tell me that you don’t miss me...just don’t say anything about it at all.”

Nikolai smiled. “I love you, Cara. You’re such a dear friend. I’ll be back in a few years.”

As you can see the above post was written upon my idea that not missing someone was cruel and unreasonable, and if you don’t miss someone you don’t need to lie about it, but you also don’t need to outright tell them. My second section is also listed:

“Who were you talking to before I walked up?” I asked. “If that’s not inappropriate to ask, your majesty.”

“Please, call me Kerick, and...I’m afraid I’m told not to talk about it,” he said with a sigh. “But I was talking to someone special to me...a friend I lost long ago who I search for.”

“If you’re searching for him why do you talk to him?” I asked.

“It eases my pain,” Kerick murmured. “Haven’t you ever had someone you loved and missed when you were separated from them?”

I shook my head. He looked at me and suddenly took my hand. There was tenderness in his eyes.

“I pity you,” he said softly.

“What, why? I have a perfectly happy life,” I lied.

“Because you have no one to love. Everyone deserves that.”

I sighed. “I guess...I guess I have some people to love...but I don’t miss them that much when I’m around.” I thought of Ammon, even Lydia who not too long before I’d told myself I must love. Surely I was in love with her? Then why did I not miss her?

“If you don’t miss them then you surely cannot truly have love for them,” Kerick said softly. “It should hurt to be separated from them.”

“From what I know of life it’s best to avoid pain, why not avoid love then?”

“Because love is a good pain...because when you find that person again the joy is ten times more powerful than the pain was. It’s worth it.”

This second post also revolves around the idea that in order to truly feel love for someone you have to miss them. It was a central part of my character discovering who he loved the most, because it was the only person he truly missed.

HOWEVER, my views are slowly coming to change after reading from C.S. Lewis’s book Perelandra.

In chapter 5 the green lady is telling the protagonist, Ransom, of her husband, the King, who was swept away from her during a storm. She has only recently come across Ransom, and has shown great delight in his presence. Ransom questions her for being so delighted at finding him rather than the Man. She explains that both things are happy for her. She describes finding Ransom like eating a different kind of fruit. He may taste different, but he is still good and enjoyable. Ransom is slightly shocked by this.

“But are you happy without the King? Do you not want the King?”

“Want him?” she said. “How could there be anything I did not want?”

There was something in her replies that began to repel Ransom. “You can’t want him very much if you are happy without him,” he said: and was immediately surprised at the sulkiness of his own voice.

“Why?” asked the Lady. (189).

Normally I would say that the Lady is simply ignorant in the ways of love and that Lewis is trying to portray this negatively. However, I couldn’t say that after reading this. The Lady is ignorant of things such as Death, and Peace (which means she knows nothing of harm, war, or battle). Her ignorance of these are joyous. The Lady is a representation of Eve, of the way people were before sin and strife. So why then is her seemingly ignorant view of love acceptable?

Missing someone is pain. It is deep and powerful pain. Pain is not from above, though God can use it for his own purposes. So therefore the lady would know nothing of it, and therefore it must be something negative.

The love of the woman is more complete in not missing the man and accepting Ransom instead. She is showing a fully encompassing, unconditional love. She is showing the love of God. God doesn’t look at one person and love them more than another. He loves all equally. For us there are circles of acceptance around us. We have our family and very close friends in one circle, who we love deeply. Our acquaintances fall into the next circle and we appreciate and help them when we can, but not as much as we do that first circle. And of course our circles outside of that are all for strangers. Some may have different circles from there on out, for example being more hospitable and kind to a strange child as opposed to a drunken homeless man. But this invention of circles came after Adam and Eve.

Had God put more people in the garden they would have loved equally. Eve of course would reserve deep intimacy and sex for her husband, but other than that I believe her love for other men and women would be just as deep as that for Adam. Perfect love does not involve pain. There is no jealousy. There is no anger and resentment. And what I thought was perfect love was not at all.

I suppose the words “I miss you” have changed a bit for me. It’s a way of showing care, but I don’t think it the only way I show care or expect care. I suppose I need to learn to be more like the woman in Perelandra, not leveling my friendships. I should be delighted that I have friends here at George Fox, holding them at equal value to my friendships across the country. I believe I need to say my apologies to those I’ve wronged, and move on from whatever hurt feelings I still have. I think I need to learn to live without someone with happiness, and with rejoicing that we may in fact meet again, but separation is only temporary and therefore not to be mourned. 

I love how the French have phrased their ways of expressing missing someone. In French one says “Tu me manques” which means you are lacking in me. It takes the feeling off of oneself. It moves it onto the other person. I suppose for me I see it as a simple statement: "you don’t have me in your life, I don’t have you in my life, it’s hard to be separated, but hopefully we’ll see each other soon”. In many ways I like that better than our English statement. It’s less about hurt feelings, and more about relationships.

So to all my dear friends out there from high school, college, church, camps, or life in general I just wanted to let you know Vous me manquez- You are lacking in me, and I am lacking in you. If ever I can be a better friend let me know. I love all of you, and hope you love me too. Separation has not changed my feelings, but has only made them stronger.

God bless. 

Dorsett, Lyle W., ed. The Essential C.S. Lewis. New York: Touchstone Books, 1988. Print.