Reflections on C. S. Lewis

On my drive home last night, I thought a lot about this man:

This still remains one of my favorite pictures of him.

If you've been on this blog for any length of time, you are quite aware that C. S. Lewis is one of my favorite authors. Last night, I asked myself why this was the case. 
I was made aware of Lewis long before I can even remember, truth be told. My parents used to read to us before bed every night. Or at least, a few times a week. Among other books, The Chronicles of Narnia were read frequently. When my father read, he occasionally gave British accents to some of the characters. Badly, but still. It was the thought that counted. I also grew up with that horribly low-budget fantastic BBC rendering of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. I watched those VHS tapes to death, though, low budget or not. To this day, I'm sure I know the whole thing by heart. 

In his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, Lewis describes what it was like growing up in his New House. The house was noisy but full of empty rooms. And also, he seems to add with joy, books. 

I am a product… of endless books. My father bought all the books he read and never got rid of any of them. There were books in the study, books in the drawing room, books in the cloakroom, books (two deep) in the great bookcase on the landing, books in a bedroom, books piled as high as my shoulder…,books of all kinds…nothing was forbidden me. 

I fell in love with this attitude toward books.  I think I can also blame my obsession with books on Lewis. Though the number of my books do not compare to his or his parents, my house is also rather full of books. This is probably one of the few things Jack and I actually have in common. 
We grew up differently; his mother died when he was young, he had a difficult relationship with his father, he was sent away to schools and communicated with his family and friends through letters. I, on the other hand, am blessed to have both my parents, live semi-close to most of my immediate family, and have the technology to be able to pick up the phone and talk with friends who live hours and states away. 
To highlight even more differences, Jack was a devout atheist for at least 30 years of his life. I grew up in a home where Christ was loved, believed in and demonstrated in every day life, and I had decided to follow the same path for myself. But do you know what his journey to Christianity and Christ tells me? It is okay to have doubts, it is okay to question. But when the questions stop, make sure you listen. You will be asked to make a choice. (Though I would imagine Jack would say you have no choice when the truth is so plain. When it came down to it, he called himself "the most reluctant convert in all England.")

In all of these differences, though, I find a kinship with this man. Maybe it is in the way he so simply talks about faith and belief. His ability to read the Bible and draw out a truth from it that is necessary in every day life always makes me stop and listen. While he calls out sin he also reminds us of the very personal relationship God wants to have with us. I think I never feel so loved by Christ as when I watch Aslan sacrifice himself for Edmund or read Lewis when he says things like "When Christ died, He died for you individually just as much as if you'd been the only man in the world." 

I suppose one of the things I really love about Lewis is that he taught me that it is okay to read fairy tales as an adult. No, that it is important to read fairy tales even as an adult. I was so eager to grow up as a child that I know I skipped many children's books in exchange for Gone with the Wind. I don't regret those choices. In fact, I am sure that because of them I am able to appreciate fairy tales and children's stories more as an adult. Instead of seeing the jerk of a selfish troublemaker in Edmund, I see myself. I see the bad choices, but I also see the possibility of redemption. Instead of just seeing a person who has lost faith in the stories of old in Trumpkin, I see myself. I see how easy it is to lose faith when you feel abandoned, but also how faith can be restored when you allow yourself to be taught and led by those with more faith than you currently posses. Instead of seeing a bossy, friendless, pain in the neck whiner in Eustace, I see myself. Stay with me here! While yes, he is all of those things, and how!, he doesn't stay that way after his encounter with The Lion. I, too, am capable and find myself trying to live life in my own strength. It is only when I cry out that I cannot do it on my own and ask for help can the scales of pride and selfishness come off.

I love that even after years of careful study and reading for pleasure, I still find joy in opening a book by or about C. S. Lewis. I love the way his speech changes from academic to common and back again, all without losing the reader or the point. 
I have much more to say about this great man and I'm sure that I shall do so in the future, but for tonight, this is where I will leave it. 
I will always be thankful to God for creating such a man, to Jack for sharing his gifts and talents with the world and for those in my life with whom I can talk to about everything Lewis. 

An Opening For A Princess

...a genuine certified princess!

Meagan as Princess Winnifred describing "The Swamps of Home"

Photo credit & article:http://www.huntingtonian.com/?attachment_id=12130

And what an opening weekend was had! Huntington University's theatre program opened their fall season with "Once Upon a Mattress" staring none other than my fabbity-fab little sister! I got to see the show twice and I swear she got better with each performance!
(And maybe I'm biased, but I thought she was one of the BEST [ya know, to be fair. Honestly, she WAS the best.] actors on the stage!)

The show was in the smaller studio theatre, which was an excellent choice because so much of the show was relied on facial expressions that would have been lost in the bigger theatre.
Anything I say about the show will be a rave. I can't help it. I laughed so hard. I even laughed the second time I saw it!

But besides the show, we had a really great weekend. The trip was much longer than I remembered and the back seat of my parent's car has gotten more uncomfortable over the years. I think I packed at least 12 books; I read all of one. Two, if you count "Game of Thrones," even though I started it weeks ago, 'cause I finally finished it! I think I'll have to do a review on that one later. I was shocked by the way things ended. I didn't see it coming and am impressed with the strength the characters had by the end...oh so much to say!

(The other book I took was called "When She Woke" by Hillary Jordan and I read it in half a day. It was very thought provoking and critical of rote religion and social issues. Very worthy of a review of it's own as well.)

We are home and (mostly) unpacked from the weekend. I am so looking forward to a good night of rest. We were going all day, early-ish to well past midnight most nights while we were gone. Sleeping in the car, in the middle of the day, really does something to mess up the internal clock. However, I have to be back into the swing of things tonight already because I have a work meeting in an hour and a half. No rest for the wicked!

P.S. If you are friends with me or my mom on Facebook, look for videos from the show within the week! I just dare you not to laugh!

A bit of change

Today was a pretty big day for me.

Best part?

I hardly had to leave my house.

I've had this horrible allergy-induced cough for the past few days. Blergh. I woke up in a coughing fit. Not a cool way to start my Saturday. That was quickly remedied by my mother offering to make pancakes for breakfast. She was even super resourceful when it came to the chocolate chips we didn't have to be put in my pancakes. And we aren't even at the best part.

I went to the library with my dad, something we used to do together a lot. I remember days when I would take home a stack of books and a few movies that I could blaze through in a matter of hours/days. (Oh for the days when I didn't have to pay library fines! I've finally gotten rid of all my fines and I'm trying to keep it that way!) I went in to pick up one book. One book that was already on hold for me. But did I look anyway? Yes. And I came home with a book I've been dying to read (Ted DekKer's newest!) and a Robin McKinley book that Neil Gaiman endorsed as "pretty much perfect." (How could I *not* pick it up??) So I now have four books that absolutely, positively HAVE to wait until I finish "A Game of Thrones" because I've put that one off long enough. And I have to keep reading because my friend is reading it...and I'm trying (but failing) to catch up with her.

Trip to the library, new books, and still not the best part.

I threw stuff out.

A lot of stuff.

See, I tend to hang on to stuff. You never know who will want it (I'll have it!) or when I'll need it (I'll still have it!). I keep ephemera things because I got it/used it/blew my nose it in while I was in London. (Ok, not that last one. That would be gross.) Or I have stuff that might have been important at one time (receipts or bank statements, old pay stubs) but no longer have value. There are things that I am afraid to throw away for absolutely no other reason than I'm not sure if I should. What if I want it later?

Sometimes it is a memory thing. There is a song from the musical "Ordinary Days" about a girl cleaning out some space in her apartment to make room for her boyfriend who is moving in and she says, "But somehow I've been petrified to see what's been kept inside these chests and drawers. It's so very strange finding stuff from a lifetime ago, even when the life you find is yours. And there are things that make you feel that you needed this proof that your past was real. And you can't let them go."

I know exactly how that feels! I sometimes think if I get rid of that note or card, I'll forget. And sometimes I do. Sometimes, it's a good thing to forget. But some things don't need notes or cards to stay in your memory. And I know I don't need to hold on to everything.

I've tried to do projects like this before, but I usually/always get stuck halfway through the mire and I end up shoving it all back it the drawer.

Today? My mom helped.

Kind pancake maker, yes. But when it comes to cleaning up and throwing out, she is a force to be reckoned with. She understands my tendency to hold on to things (it is, sadly, something that runs in the family) but she lovingly helped me move past some of my fear of throwing stuff away. We made progress of epic proportions! At least three bags of garbage (maybe more...) and tons of space freed up in my room! We also sorted through some things of mine that, if I had my own place, would have been needed and properly organized but now are not of much use to me. We exchanged a very uncomfortable chair that used to belong to our neighbor with a much more comfortable rocking chair. I now have a space to do comfy reading in my room, instead of reading in my bed and falling asleep!

The best thing I learned today was that I can get over my fear of things. I might need a little help, a little hand holding and some Sour Patch Kids when it is all said and done--but I can do it.

And I think it's a good day when you learn something new about yourself.

(Side note: In the past 20 min or so after writing this post, I forgot that my chair had turned into a rocking chair TWICE! The last time I sat on it I said to myself, out loud, "Rocking chair. Rocking chair!" Oh boy...that one will take a little bit of time!)