So I’ve changed out a few things around here…please tell me if this is too difficult to read. 

                             ~And now for your regularly “scheduled” post~

This is an excerpt from a book that I am reading called The Sacred Romance:

The reason we anjoy fairy tales-more than enjoy them-the reason we identify with them in some deep part of us is because they rest on two great truths: The hero really has a heart of gold and the beloved really possesses hidden beauty.  In the last chapter, I hope you got a glimpse of God’s heart. But what about the second great truth-could we possess hidden greatness?  It seems too good to be true. 
     Remember, the theme of vieled idientity runs through all great stories.  As Buechner reminds us, “Not only does evil come disguised in the world of the fairy tale but often good does too.”  The heroines and heroes capture our heart because we see long before they ever do their hidden beauty, courage, greatness.  Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White-they’re not simple wenches after all.  The beast and the frog-they’re actually princes.  Aladdin is “the diamond in the rough.”  If the narrative of the Scriptures teaches us anything, from the serpent in the Garden to carpenter from Nazareth, it teaches us that things are rarely what they seem, that we shouldn’t be fooled by appearences.
     Your evaluation of your soul, which is drawn from a wrold filled with people still terribly confused about the nature of their souls, is probably wrong.  As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory, “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare….There are no ordinary people.  You have never talked to a mere mortal.”
     Imagine if Cinderella’s story ended this way: “And the Prince married Grimheld, one of the brutish, wicked stepsisters, who complained about everything and picked her nose during the wedding.”  It’s not far from our understanding of the gospel.  The familiar refrain goes something like this: “You are a sinner, a traitor, a depraved wretch-pond scum, really.  But God, in order to show the world what a gret guy he is, will let you in anyway.”  We can’t start with the Fall in our understanding of who we are and our role in the story.  That’s like coming into the movie twenty minutes late.  But most Christian efforts to explain the story begin there.  The whole idea of a fall assumes a starting place from which to plummet and given what a big deal the Bible makes of the Fall, it must hae been from a pretty high place.  “Boy trips, stubs toe” doesn’t make the evening news.  “Skydiver jumps, chute fails” does.  The higher the original position, the bigger the story.  Nobody’s surprised when the neighborhood mutt runs off, plays the mongrel, sows a few wild oats, and kicks off a great night by rummaging through the trash.  But what’s the response if the Queen of England is found rolling around in the alley?
     Yes, we are not what we were meant to be, and we know it.  If, when passing a stranger on the street, we happen to meet eyes, we quickly avert our glance.  Cramped into awkward community of eleveator, we search for something, anything to look at instead of each other.  We sense that our real self is ruined, and we fear to be seen.  But think for a moment about the millions of tourists who visit ancient sites like the Parthenon, the Colosseum, and the Pyramids.  Though ravaged by time, the elements, and vandals through the ages, mere shadows of their former glory cannot be fully extinguished.  There is something at once sad and grand about them.  And such we are.  Abused, neglected, vandalized, fallen-we are still fearful and wonderful.  We are, as one theologian put it, “glorious ruins.”  But unlike those grand monuments, we who are Christ’s  have been redeemed and are being renewed as Paul said, “day by day,” restored in the love of God.”

Of course there is a ton more I could post…but you wouldn’t read it if I did.  I mean if you made it this far you were either pulled in by John Eldredge’s wonderful writing skills or you really like me.  hehe *smile* Be well!

Ashley