You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘The Booklist’ category.
so the question still remains. whats next? its nearly been two years since i got to texas. can you believe that? two years. and in some ways ive flourished, and in others, im lost wandering the land of always winter.
ive found myself, feeling very lost at times. wondering what im supposed to be doing. why i am here. where the ‘connections’ are that i seem to be missing.
april talked in her blog about the blessing her brother was coming into. the connections he had made. he was finding his place. discovering who he is. i yearn for that.
not to long ago someone said that without a vision, we die. i think it is especially true for guys. we need a goal. a vision to hold the randomness of our lives together. without a goal… without a goal we lose ourselves. we lose our ability to look up, to look beyond ourselves. and we begin to wonder if all we see around us really is all that there is.
its scary when you start to ask those questions. but if youre brave, you allow yourself to face them. althought i must say, i dont always like the answers. answers that tell me i live much of my life in fear. fear of not being good enough. of losing my job. of being the wrong person. of saying the wrong thing. of being unloved.
now i can stand here and point to specific times in my life when each of those fears were birthed. i can tell you how i logically attacked each one. how i developed very intricate strategies and defenses in dealing with them… but honestly, none of it matters.
im hungry. so desperately hungry. hungry for a church to call home. hungry for worship like bethel. to sit behind a sound board again. im hungry for a friend to just be with. hungry for the phone to ring with an invite for some coffee. its the desire to be wanted. to feel valued. to find hope in what one can offer.
we’re all born with the desire to love and be loved. we’re all born with dreams woven deeply into the very core of who we are. and when we allow ourselves to be the most real, those cries are what we hear. cries to worship. calls to dream again.
playing with a thunderstorm, the name of this blog. the name comes from the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. in the part of the book where Aslan has just sacraficed himself to save the prodigal son, the two daughters of eve find Aslans body lying on the stone sacrificial table…. and, well, i’ll let you read it.
the stone table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end; and there was no Aslan.“oh oh oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the table. “oh its too bad” sobbed lucy; “they might have left the body alone.” “who’s done it?” cried susan. “what does it mean? is it more majic?”
“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more majic.” they turned around. there, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.
“oh Aslan!” cried both of the children, staring up at him, aslmost as much frightened as they were glad. “aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said lucy.
“Not now” said Aslan.
“you’re not-not a-?” asked susan in a shaky voice. she couldnt bring herslef to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. the warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“do I look it?” he said.
“oh, you’re real, you’re real! oh Aslan!” cried lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses. “but what does it all mean?” asked susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“it means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep majic, there is a majic deeper still which she did not know. her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. but if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. she would have known then when a willing victim who had commited no treachery was killed in a traitors stead, the table would crack and death itself would start working backwards. and now-“
“oh yes, now?” said lucy, jumping up and clapping her hands.
“oh, children,” said the Lion, “i feel my strength coming back to me. oh, children, catch me if you can!”
He stood for a second, His eyes very bright, His limbs quivering, lashing himself with his tail. then he made a leap high over their heads and landed on the other side of the table. laughing, though she didnt know why, lucy scrambled over it to reach him. Aslan leaped again. a mad chase began. round and round the hilltop he led them, now hopelessly out of their reach, now letting them almost catch his tail, now diving between them, now tossing them in the air with his huge and beautifully velveted paws and catching them again, and now stopping unexpectedly so that all three of them rolled over together in a happy laughing heap of fur and arms and legs. it was such a romp as no one has ever had except in Nanria; and wether it was more like playing with a thunderstorm or playing with a kitten lucy could never make up her mind….
so, the rest of the story remains to be written.
im going to dream.
im going to be someone.
im going to find my place.
and i will overcome.
i know i’ve said this before…
but again – it seems that it rings true…
the sound of wind whispering through the brittle color changing leaves…
the sound of change.
the sound of the beginning of what could be… the end.
finally.
For us this is the end of all stories, but for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life had only been the cover and title page: now at last they were beginning chapter one of the great story, which no one on earth has read, which goes on forever and in which every chapter is better than the one before…
C.S. Lewis
i leave you all tonite with a short post.
but a long overdue praise to my King.
He has lead me this far.
my only prayer – to be willing to be lead through eternity.
No one answered. The noon-bell rang. Still no one spoke. Frodo glanced at all the faces, but they were not turned to him. All the Council sat with downcast eyes, as if in deep thought. A great dread fell on him as if he was awaiting the pronouncement of some great doom that he had long foreseen and vainly hoped might after all never be spoken. An overwhelming longing to rest and remain at peace by Bilbo’s side in Rivendell filled all his heart. At last with an effort he spoke, and wondered to hear his own words, as if some other will was using his small voice.
‘I will take the ring.’ he said, ‘though I do not know the way.’
so maybe i don’t have a “ring” so to speak – to carry. i do, just like frodo, have a calling. a road i must walk.
and again, just like frodo, i do not know the way.
Father, i am sorry. i’ve wandered from my path. ive compromised.
forgive me?
….when He had finished, Much-Afraid lifted her face towrd the High Places which were now quite invisible and spoke quietly through the midst. “my Lord, behold me- here i am, in the place Thou didst send me to- doing the thing Thou didst tell me to do, for where Thou diest, will i die, and there will i be bured: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me”
i know i probably should be mature enough to not be surprised by this….
i know ive probably learned enough about this thing we call “life” to be aware enough to not be caught off guard…
i know i shouldnt be sitting in stunned silence…
i know… but i still am.
i sit here. blown away, bewildered, convuluted, stunned into silence….
my life has changed… again. all over again. in a moment.
in a moment my day went from ‘ok’… to ‘oh my god’.
…an excerpt from Hinds Feet on High Places….
“…she had been down into egypt and had looked upon the grinding-stones, the wheel, and the furnace, and knew that they symbolized an expierence which she herself must pass through. Somehow, incredible as it was, she, Much-Afraid, had been enabled to accept the knowledge and to acquiesce in it, and she knew within herself that with that acceptance a gulf had opened between herself and her past life, even between her past self; a gulf which could never again be closed….”
for weeks now ive had this sense, that “it” wasn’t done yet, that the burning wreckage of my ‘family unit’ hadn’t crashed landed yet. and, i was right. it seems that before it slams permanently into the earth, it may have some flammable cargo still waiting to explode. today, something huge blew up. and whats worse, the repercussions haven’t even been felt. yet.
welcome – to the begining of the end….


































