It's 11:30 pm and after a steady diet of prodding (ranging from subtle encouragement to downright weekly nagging, "why aren't you writing?") from loving friends & family members, I decided to digest all the advice, take a mental Pepcid and plunge right into the whole blogging thingy!
The title of my blog comes from a beautiful portion of The Horse and His Boy, one of the classics in C.S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia series. After a series of dramatic (& often, traumatic) events, Shasta (the "boy" from the aforementioned title) is on a regular, non-Narnian horse, attempting to navigate a physical mist while also invited by an unseen traveling companion to explore the fog that has surrounded the events of his life, thus far:
...The mist was turning from black to gray and from gray to white...Now the whiteness around him became a shining whiteness; his eyes began to blink. Somewhere ahead he could hear birds singing. He knew the night was over at last....a golden light fell...from the left. He thought it was the sun.
He turned and saw, pacing beside him...a Lion...It was from the Lion that the light came.
...Shasta...knew none of the true stories about Aslan, the great Lion, the son of the Emperor-over-the-Sea, the King above all High Kings in Narnia. But after one glance at the Lion's face he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn't say anything but then he didn't want to say anything, and he knew he needn't say anything.
The High King above all kings stooped toward him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the mane, was all round him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly the pale brightness of the mist and the fiery brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and disappeared. He was alone with the horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing.
So much of life on this Christian journey is like that, isn't it? We are walking through the mist and the darkness, alone (or so we think), and gradually we become aware of the soft, nearly-silent footfalls of the Son of God trodding the path beside us. He needn't explain Himself and the mist doesn't always lift immediately to reveal the blue sky and the songbirds, but it is enough that He is present.
What I'd like to do in this blog, more than anything, is share my love of speculative fiction, especially as it relates to the oft-mysterious paths our Christian journeys can take us through, to tell stories that echo deeply the One True Story.