FROM: Banbury, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom
ABOUT ME: Living the highs and lows of life in the adventurous pursuit of God Himself and of who I'm meant to be as the Bride of Christ.
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Sunday, March 15, 2009,3:26 p.m.
WALKING IN YOUR GIFTS TO GLORIFY GOD
I like to read. I like to read novels. I read lots of other things as well, but I can really lose myself in a novel, my favourite author of all time being Agatha Christie. My favourite genre being the mystery. (You can see how those two go together.)
One of the other types of novels that I love to read are the classics. Books that we have all heard of but, outside of what we studied in English classes in school, have probably never read. I love the style of writing, I love the purity of themes. And I really love learning where certain things in our culture have come from. For instance, when we call someone a "faithful Dobbin", how many people know that it comes from a character in Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray? (And now that you're all saying, "Who ever says "faithful Dobbin"?!?" I'll go back to the fact that I read a lot and so read things like that in more contemporary books. Plus I think my grandmothers said a lot of things like that....)
Anyway, point made - I like to read. I also like to re-read things I have read and enjoyed before. Which is why I recently picked up Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. Yes, it's a children's book. It's still a classic, and if you like random things, this book is for you. But what I found so cool in the middle of the book was a letter written by Lewis Carroll in 1876 to the children who were reading his book. It comes at the end of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and says this:
Dear Child,
Do you know that delicious dreamy feeling when one first wakes on a summer morning, with the twitter of birds in the air, and the fresh breeze coming in at the open window--when, lying lazily with eyes half shut, one sees as in a dream green boughs waving, or waters rippling in a golden light? It is a pleasure very near to sadness, bringing tears to one's eyes like a beautiful picture or poem. And is not that a Mother's gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a Mother's sweet voice that summons you to rise? To rise and forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that frightened you so when all was dark--to rise and enjoy another happy day, first kneeling to thank that unseen Friend, who sends you the beautiful sun?
Are these strange words from a writer of such tales as "Alice"? And is this a strange letter to find in a book of nonsense? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame me for thus mixing together things grave and gay; others may smile and think it odd that any one should speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on a Sunday: but I think--nay, I am sure--that some children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the spirit in which I have written it.
For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life into two halves--to wear a grave face on Sunday, and to think it out-of-place to even so much as mention Him on a week-day. Do you think He cares to see only kneeling figures, and to hear only tones of prayer--and that He does not also love to see the lambs leaping in the sunlight, and to hear the merry voices of the children, as they roll among the hay? Surely their innocent laughter is as sweet in His ears as the grandest anthem that ever rolled up from the "dim religious light" of some solemn cathedral?
And if I have written anything to add to those stores of innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in books for the children I love so well, it is surely something I may hope to look back upon without shame and sorrow (as how much of life must then be recalled!) when my turn comes to walk through the valley of shadows.
This Easter sun will rise on you, dear child, feeling your "life in every limb," and eager to rush out into the fresh morning air--and many an Easter-day will come and go, before it finds you feeble and gray-headed, creeping wearily out to bask once more in the sunlight--but it is good, even now, to think sometimes of that great morning when the "Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings."
Surely your gladness need not be the less for the thought that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this--when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any waving trees or rippling waters--when angel-hands shall undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever loving Mother breathed shall wake you to a new and glorious day--and when all the sadness, and the sin, that darkened life on this little earth, shall be forgotten like the dreams of a night that is past!
One of the other types of novels that I love to read are the classics. Books that we have all heard of but, outside of what we studied in English classes in school, have probably never read. I love the style of writing, I love the purity of themes. And I really love learning where certain things in our culture have come from. For instance, when we call someone a "faithful Dobbin", how many people know that it comes from a character in Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray? (And now that you're all saying, "Who ever says "faithful Dobbin"?!?" I'll go back to the fact that I read a lot and so read things like that in more contemporary books. Plus I think my grandmothers said a lot of things like that....)
Anyway, point made - I like to read. I also like to re-read things I have read and enjoyed before. Which is why I recently picked up Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. Yes, it's a children's book. It's still a classic, and if you like random things, this book is for you. But what I found so cool in the middle of the book was a letter written by Lewis Carroll in 1876 to the children who were reading his book. It comes at the end of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and says this:
An Easter Greeting
to
Every Child Who Loves
Alice
Dear Child,
Please to fancy, if you can, that you are reading a real letter, from a real friend whom you have seen, and whose voice you can seem to yourself to hear wishing you, as I do now with all my heart, a happy Easter.
Do you know that delicious dreamy feeling when one first wakes on a summer morning, with the twitter of birds in the air, and the fresh breeze coming in at the open window--when, lying lazily with eyes half shut, one sees as in a dream green boughs waving, or waters rippling in a golden light? It is a pleasure very near to sadness, bringing tears to one's eyes like a beautiful picture or poem. And is not that a Mother's gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a Mother's sweet voice that summons you to rise? To rise and forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that frightened you so when all was dark--to rise and enjoy another happy day, first kneeling to thank that unseen Friend, who sends you the beautiful sun?
Are these strange words from a writer of such tales as "Alice"? And is this a strange letter to find in a book of nonsense? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame me for thus mixing together things grave and gay; others may smile and think it odd that any one should speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on a Sunday: but I think--nay, I am sure--that some children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the spirit in which I have written it.
For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life into two halves--to wear a grave face on Sunday, and to think it out-of-place to even so much as mention Him on a week-day. Do you think He cares to see only kneeling figures, and to hear only tones of prayer--and that He does not also love to see the lambs leaping in the sunlight, and to hear the merry voices of the children, as they roll among the hay? Surely their innocent laughter is as sweet in His ears as the grandest anthem that ever rolled up from the "dim religious light" of some solemn cathedral?
And if I have written anything to add to those stores of innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in books for the children I love so well, it is surely something I may hope to look back upon without shame and sorrow (as how much of life must then be recalled!) when my turn comes to walk through the valley of shadows.
This Easter sun will rise on you, dear child, feeling your "life in every limb," and eager to rush out into the fresh morning air--and many an Easter-day will come and go, before it finds you feeble and gray-headed, creeping wearily out to bask once more in the sunlight--but it is good, even now, to think sometimes of that great morning when the "Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings."
Surely your gladness need not be the less for the thought that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this--when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any waving trees or rippling waters--when angel-hands shall undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever loving Mother breathed shall wake you to a new and glorious day--and when all the sadness, and the sin, that darkened life on this little earth, shall be forgotten like the dreams of a night that is past!
Easter, 1876
Maybe you've checked out of this blog already because it seems too long. But if you haven't, what struck me the most in reading this letter was Lewis Carroll's witness. Here he was, a writer of children's books - and strange ones, at that - and taking the golden opportunity that he had as a popular writer to speak to each child who picked up his book to read. He does not mince words, he does not try to 'soften' the message to make it less 'offensive'. It is there, plain and simple. And added to his faithfulness, I can't help but think of the faithfulness of the publishers. In this day and age it would not matter if you were bold; the opportunity to publish the above letter with a popular book would be to assure failure with the entire publication.
Yes, Lewis Carroll lived well over a hundred years ago, in a culture that was more Christianized. But though his culture probably made it slightly easier for him to take his opportunity, it was still he who saw the opportunity in the first place and took it.
No matter where we are in life or what we do, we should be allowing God to open doors for us to be His witnesses, to spread His gospel and to touch lives for His sake. Ministry does not have to be a full-time, paid position - not in the least. And there is not large and small amount of ministry, if one is faithful to grasp whatever God puts in front of him. Whatever your gifts, whatever your job, whatever God has called you to and wherever He has allowed your feet to walk - remain faithful to the big picture: the call to glorify God and to spread His fame throughout His earth.
Yes, Lewis Carroll lived well over a hundred years ago, in a culture that was more Christianized. But though his culture probably made it slightly easier for him to take his opportunity, it was still he who saw the opportunity in the first place and took it.
No matter where we are in life or what we do, we should be allowing God to open doors for us to be His witnesses, to spread His gospel and to touch lives for His sake. Ministry does not have to be a full-time, paid position - not in the least. And there is not large and small amount of ministry, if one is faithful to grasp whatever God puts in front of him. Whatever your gifts, whatever your job, whatever God has called you to and wherever He has allowed your feet to walk - remain faithful to the big picture: the call to glorify God and to spread His fame throughout His earth.
