literature

I Read Dead People

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oldbooks

One day, I will make that into a t-shirt and feel all clever about it, even though the idea has probably already been taken.

Don’t get me wrong. I love reading the newest books by new authors. I look forward to new books by folks like Max Lucado, Jan Karon, and Francis Chan, among others.

But sometimes it’s good to read something by someone who’s no longer living. And by that I don’t mean recently deceased.

I’m talking about people like C S Lewis or G K Chesterton. People like Jane Austen or Bram Stoker. Or if you really want to get daring, go back even further and read the works of William Shakespeare or St Augustine.

It’s good to step outside of the Western 21st-century mindset to gain a fresh perspective. Especially when it comes to faith.

I’m currently reading G K Chesterton’s Orthodoxy, which I highly recommend to anyone who wants a deeper read. This is the guy who greatly influenced C S Lewis and whose book The Everlasting Man was instrumental in Lewis coming to faith. As if you needed extra incentive.

In the past year, I’ve read Anna Karenina by Tolstoy and Les Miserables by Victor Hugo. Both are newer translations of the old classics that really make the text come alive in a new way and the characters seem more alive and real.

I would be amiss if I didn’t mention the one book that I read by an author who is still alive. In fact. I can actually get in touch with him to ask him what he meant on certain parts and why certain people acted the way they did.

Spoiler alert: it’s the Bible. All the other books I’ve read are great, but this one is the only one that’s living and active. It’s the only book that’s God-breathed. It’s the only book where I can figure out the craziness that is my life and make it work.

I suggest you try it sometimes.

To All the Wallflowers in the World

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perks

I finally broke down and rented The Perks of Being a Wallflower from Redbox. In case you were wondering, that was the infamous movie that I had a ticket for the night I got hit by that car in downtown Franklin. Yeah, that was the movie I missed. Well, I finally saw it, almost two months later.

One line really struck me. “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

I had always wondered why I saw nice, pretty girls who always seemed to date guys who struck me as obnoxious, loud jerks. I wondered why they did that when there were nice guys (like me) available.

You could argue that most of the nice guys (again like me) never got up the nerve to ask out the nice, pretty girls. But I do think that people who don’t think much of themselves will settle for relationships that aren’t the best for them.

In case you’re wondering if this is going to be yet another blog on dating, it’s not.

I wonder how many of us really know our own worth. We tend to repeatedly replay every minor criticism and downplay every compliment out of a false modesty that really isn’t modest at all. If you and I are honest, we don’t think much of ourselves most of the time and we project that on to how we perceive others to not like us or acknowledge us.

Maybe you think nobody ever sees you or feels your pain or even cares that you’re hurting. Maybe you wonder why you bother getting up in the morning only to spend the entire day being overlooked and ignored by everyone around you.

Let me remind you that God thought you worth loving. Well, let me rephrase that. God chose to love you because he wanted to and in loving you, he made you lovable and worth loving. Maybe that only makes sense if you’re tired and still awake after midnight, but there it is.

God formed you with his own hands, breathed his own breath into you, and called you very good. You are made in the image of God and there is no one else exactly like you. You are God’s poem, his masterpiece, his workmanship.

So whenever you are tempted in any way to settle for less than God’s very best, remember that you are worth loving because God said so. And anybody who says or acts otherwise doesn’t deserve you.

 

Another Break from Facebook

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I was about to call it a night when I realized something. I’d forgotten to write my blog for the day. So here it is, at 1:06 a.m., so don’t be looking for any Pulitzer-worthy materials.

I’m taking a break from facebook. It’s been two days now and I haven’t been to the website once. I’ve thought about it fifty times, but so far I’ve restrained myself.

The last time I did it I was angry and upset by what I perceived to be someone ignoring one of my comments. I knew I had to get my head right and get my thinking straight again. It lasted 10 days and I felt like a new man afterward.

This time, there’s no anger. This time it’s a conscious effort to do without something so I know it doesn’t have a hold on me. I guess you could say I’m giving up facebook for Lent. I’m not really sure how long this is supposed to last. I’m guessing up until Easter. But I didn’t grow up observing Lent, so I really don’t have much of a clue about these things.

All I know is that it’s supposed to be time to spend in prayer and in God’s word. Theoretically, every time I get the urge to check my page or see what my facebook friends are up to, I instead pick up my Bible and pray. I’ll be honest and say that I haven’t done a very good job of that yet.

But I have a few weeks to go, so maybe by that time, I’ll be more disciplined.

To my facebook friends, if you’re reading this, I haven’t forgotten you. I haven’t abandoned you. I’m taking a much-needed break and I will be back. You can still contact me through email or text messaging. You can even hunt me down in person, if you get the notion.

This isn’t really super-spiritual. It’s just me letting you know that I’m alright and God is still working on me.

Downton Abbey, Or Why I Fell for All The Hype

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DowntonAbbey

I didn’t know what to make of the show Downton Abbey. At first, I kept thinking it was Downtown Abbey, which sounded like one of those murder-mystery series featuring a crime-solving nun (who would also happen to have quite the British wit about her).

But I borrowed the first two seasons from a friend and now I’m hooked. It’s a little like all those period films like Howard’s End and Gosford Park, but the storyline is unique. And Maggie Smith is completely fantastic as always.

My favorite part is when Bates throws his leg brace into the lake. He had been going about his business, grimacing a lot and telling the others that he was perfectly fine. He was not.

I wonder how many times I’ve done that, carrying around a lot of secret pain and guilt and telling everyone who asked, “Oh, I’m fine.”

Or maybe it’s a secret struggle that you carry around. One that you’re sure you’re the only one who’s ever had to wrestle with. It could be a shameful mistake you can’t forgive yourself over. It could be words better left unspoken (or maybe words left unspoken that you wish you’d said).

The best part is that you don’t have to carry this load alone. You can find others who understand and share your burdens. Best of all, God already knows what you’re trying to hide. He’s known it all along. And that thunderbolt of judgment hasn’t struck you yet.

Confession really is good for the soul. I don’t mean blabbing your troubles to a stranger on the street. I do mean finding a good trusted friend and letting him or her know what you’re going through. I do mean being honest to God in prayer about it all.

I love the saying that goes something like this: “Griefs shared are divided, while joys shared are multiplied.”

May you find this to be true for you in the days to come.

 

Revolution, Anyone?

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revolution

I wonder what would happen if I ever ended up in a scenario like the TV show Revolution (on Mondays at 9/8 CST on NBC– shameless plug). The premise of the show is that all the power in the world has gone out and no one knows why and no one knows how to fix it. Everybody reverts to the pre-electricity days where you traveled by foot or by horse and took a long time to get anywhere. And everybody fights with swords and crossbows and throwing rocks and such.

If my internet doesn’t work right, I don’t know what to do with myself. Mostly, I stare at the wireless router, as if somehow willing it to work with the powers of my mind. Apparently, my extra-sensory powers were off today, because that didn’t work at all.

Sometimes, I think it would be nice to be without all the gadgets and devices. You know, those things that were supposed to be time-saving, but ended up being time-sucking instead. Most people seem to have their smart phones surgically attached and can’t go 15 second without pulling it out to check email of facebook (or to see if a certain ragamuffin has posted yet another awesome blog– another shameless plug).

I think life would be simpler. We’d actually have to communicate the old fashioned way– with words. Spoken words. Written words. The kind that people used for several thousands of years.

Don’t get me wrong. I love me some technology. That doesn’t mean I’m techno-savvy by any means. If my fail-safe fix-all solution, i.e. unplug, wait 30 seconds, and plug back in, doesn’t work, I’m out of ideas.

But if technology goes away tomorrow, I’d be okay. I’ve got enough books I haven’t read yet to keep me going until I’m at least 290. I really think I could learn to get used to walking to places instead of always getting in the car. I’d be a lot healthier.

All this comes from me on my laptop on my wireless connection. The irony is not lost on me.

Thag You Very Buch

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bilbobaggins

“Then, as he said, the dwarves’ good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger every day. There were no more groans or grumbles. They drank to his health, and they patted him on the back, and they made a great fuss of him; which was just as well, for he was not feeling particularly cheerful. He had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon, and he had beside a shocking cold. For three days he sneezed and coughed, and he could not go out, and even after that his speeches at banquets were limited to “Thag you very buch.” (from The Hobbit)

That’s all I have to say tonight.

I have a cold, so don’t expect too much. My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and I can’t breathe through my nose. I think a good night’s rest will be just what the doctor ordered.

Also, “thag you very buch” for reading these little posts. At least that’s how it would come out if I said it aloud right now. I do appreciate every single person who reads these things when there are probably a thousand other blogs to read and a thousand other things to do, see, watch, hear and go to.

Hopefully in a a day or two I will be back to where I was before the cold. I won’t say normal, because I’ve never been that. So until then, take care and take lots and lots of Vitamin Cs.

Small Comforts

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Tonight, I went for a walk around historic downtown Franklin. I ran into a friendly cat who let me pet him (or possibly her) and even purred. It reminded me of a scene from The Horse and His Boy.

Shasta had escaped from Tashbaan and is waiting for the others near the ancient tombs that are reputedly haunted. He is alone and afraid until he notices a large cat who brings him comfort. The cat, as it turns out, is Aslan in one of his many incarnations. And for you who are not familiar with Narnia, Aslan is a type of Christ.

Also, I remembered the scene from The Voyage of the Dawn Trailer where the ship is in the midst of the island of darkness with little hope of ever getting out. Lucy whispers a prayer and Aslan again shows up, this time in the form of an albatross who says in a voice that only Lucy can hear, “Courage, dear heart.”

Sometimes, the dark seems overwhelming. Sometimes, hope seems hard to find. It seems that nothing will ever change and it is futile to go on hoping for anything better or different.

That’s when God shows up. Often it’s not in a flashy, parting the Red Sea kind of way. It’s not fire coming down from heaven or a burning bush. Often, it is a very small voice that we can only hear when we are still and silent.

Often, God shows up in small ways. A kind word or text at just the right moment. A smile from a stranger. A beautiful sunset at the end of a hard day.

It can look a thousand different ways, but if you and I can look not just with our physical eyes, but with the eyes of faith, we can find these little reminders that God has not forgotten or forsaken us.

 

Looking for New Good Reads

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I have confessed before that I am a huge fan of both The Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings series, both of which I read on an annual basis. I also read The Space Trilogy, another set of gems by C. S. Lewis.

I’m always on the lookout for more good reads along these lines. I really liked the Harry Potter series, as well as the Twilight series. I’ve also read my fair share of George MacDonald’s fantasy novels. Madeleine L’Engle is another recent discovery for me.

What do you recommend that I read next (after The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings)? I prefer series, but I can also read standalone novels, too.

On a totally unrelated note, I really do love the new TV series Revolution. It reminds me quite a bit of Lost, because there’s so much mystery about it and so much that is not what it seems. I highly recommend it.

This blog comes to you from Edisto Beach, South Carolina, where I am currently on vacation with the family. There will probably be blogs to come about Charleston and other related South Carolinian shenanigans to follow. Keep your ears pinned to the ground and your eyes open. Maybe not at the same time.

Until next time, stay trusting in God and believing that anything is possible.

 

Revisiting an Old Favorite

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There are a few books that I annually re-read. I make a point to read The Chronicles of Narnia, The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings every year. For me, it’s like going on vacation to a familiar place with people you know.

One book that I don’t read every year, but probably every other year is The Silmarillion. It actually predates both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien started it in or around 1917 and worked on it continuously up until his death in 1973. It was published four years later.

It contains the mythology of the world behind the Lord of the Rings with its own creation account and the introduction of evil into the world. You find out that Sauron is but a servant of a greater evil, but you’ll have to read the book to find out who or what.

Reading the book again reminds me of why I love books in the first place. Tolkien writes with such lyrical prose that it’s easy to visualize what he’s writing about. It is much broader in scope than either The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings and contains a great deal more characters.

I can’t imagine how anyone could make a single cohesive movie from this book. Maybe a trilogy someday, but even then I don’t see how they could capture the essence of the book. I hope somebody proves me wrong one day.

The version to get is the one with the illustrations by Ted Naismith. Just follow this link if you don’t already have the book. http://www.amazon.com/Silmarillion-J-R-R-Tolkien/dp/0618391118/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1348371959&sr=1-1&keywords=the+silmarillion (The cover on the book is different than mine, but it has the same illustrations.)

It’s not a complete work and it is imperfect, but it is worth reading at least once (or if you’re like me, way more than once). I give it the ol’ Siskel and Ebert two thumbs up.

 

Life as a Story

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I really love a good movie or a good song or a good book. There’s nothing better to me than a story well told, whether it’s in a 3 1/2 minute song or a 3 1/2 hour movie or a 300-page novel.

I like to think that’s because I myself am a character in a story. Not just any story. The Story of all stories, authored by the very God who made the world and everything in it.

The Story isn’t about me, though I tend to forget that from time to time. I get so caught up in my little drama and my own problems that I forget who the story is really about (and has always been about).

The Story has always and will always be about Jesus. He’s the great Hero who shows up when things are at their bleakest and when people are at their lowest and rescues us.

I take great comfort in knowing that my Story has a happy ending because I’ve already read the last page. No, I don’t know how I will die (though according to a facebook app, I will die in a rollerblading accident when I’m in my 90’s). I do know that Jesus comes back in the end and sets everything right again. And I get to be a part of that.

I love how C.S. Lewis puts it. All of history is just the title page and preface, but Heaven will be the actual story that never ends and keeps getting better from chapter to chapter. Heaven’s not an end, but the real beginning after a false start.

That’s why I love a good story. I always have, from when I was little up till now. So did Jesus during His earthly ministry. His way of communicating truth was through telling stories.

I hope that you and I can not only live our stories well, but learn to tell them to others and help other people find their own stories in the context of God’s great Story.