“Women have no place to speak.” “Your book will find a niche market and stay there.” "Young people are stupid." “All fiction writers are liars.” All of those things have been said to my face. You could add many, many more, I’m sure. We’ve all had hurtful words tear us down. We’ve all been told we’re not good enough. We’ve all been left speechless, had our voice stolen, been told we do not deserve to be heard. We all know what it’s like to be speechless. A Time to Speak There is a time to speak. You were created with a voice for a reason. God thinks you are worthy of being heard—He wants to hear you. He gave you the words and the story that burn inside you. If you’re alive and breathing, then you have something to say, something the world needs to hear, something only you can say. Your story has a place in this world. A perfect place for it. It’s not just words filling empty air. It matters. And if you don’t say it, something will be missing from this world. If anyone ever says otherwise, they’re dead wrong. Don’t ever let a mere person silence you. They don’t get to call the shots on a gift this wonderful. Neither do we for that matter. The only One who does is the One who gave it to you. A Time to be Silent There are times, however, when we need to be silent. Not because we aren’t worthy of a voice, but because everyone else is, too. We cannot use our voice to steal someone else’s. When we’re younger, we’re told, “If you don’t have anything kind to say, then don’t say it.” Why do we forget that as adults? The hurtful comments I listed above were said to me anywhere from one year ago to four years ago. I’ve never forgotten them, can tell you exactly where I was when they were said to me. Words last forever. And their power never lessens or dies. The destruction words can have is unimaginable. My preferences aren’t worth tearing someone else down. Even if I’m talking to someone using their words for cruelty, I never want to resort to those tricks. I never want to stoop that low. I don’t want to play their game. Words Last Words also have the unimaginable potential to bring good. To encourage someone. To keep someone going. To brighten someone’s day. To remind them someone cares. To save a life. For every unkind thing someone has said to me, I have a million kind words to match it. Words matter. Words last. There’s a lot of wrong things going on. A lot of people using their words to destroy. Taking the voice and the story that mattered so much and twisting it into something cruel. Those are times when I need to stand up. When I need to speak up. To say it’s not okay. I won’t help anyone by being silent. But I will by speaking words of life and kindness. By telling the story I was made to tell and ignoring all the voices that tell me I can’t. By saying what God gives me to say. I refuse to be speechless. What about you? *What do you think? Share your adventures—and your words—in the comments below!* And now, maybe a few words that will make you smile. :)
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One of my most recent movie forays was Disney’s Raya and the Last Dragon. While the setting, characters, and story were all brilliant and unique, the theme and emotion were what really blew me away. Raya and the Last Dragon Raya is a former princess who now roams the various countries of Kumandra (Heart, Spine, Talon, Fang, and Tail) in hopes of piecing together the legendary Dragon Gem. That Gem was also destroyed at what was supposed to be a peaceful event. When the five countries realized where the Gem was, they accused Heart of hoarding all its benefits. In the rush to all claim it, it fell and shattered. And when it shattered, so did Kumandra. Giant purple shadow monsters (Druun) rage unchecked without the Gem’s powers to protect their country. And anyone they come across, they turn to stone. Raya’s peace-hoping dad among them. So now Raya’s hoping maybe a magical dragon from the past—Sisu—could bring her Ba back. I mean, it really is understandable that Raya has some trust issues. Especially a girl she’d befriended was the one to lead the invasion for the Dragon Gem. And there is the fact that the same girl (Namaari) hunts Raya to this day. But in order to get all the gem pieces, she’ll have to take a few chances. Three, to be exact, which lead her to assemble quite the misfit crew. The Great Sisu Debate There’s been quite the debate as to what this movie was trying to say, and I had a lot of fun discussing it with some of my writer friends. Sisu, the hilarious yet wise dragon, advocates giving everyone a chance. But in real life, we can’t just walk up to a random person on the street and ask for help. We can’t go to someone who has seriously hurt us and give them a gift and make everything better. Raya, on the other hand, trusts no one. And we see throughout the movie that her way doesn’t work either. We can’t do everything ourselves (and I would highly suggest you not try drying your own food unless you know how). So what are we to do?
I think the answer lies in the scene when Raya and Sisu confront Namaari. (And we’re preparing for a whole lot of spoilers, so be warned.) Namaari—whom Sisu believes can be trusted—turns a crossbow on them both and demands they hand themselves and the Gem over. Despite this turn in plans, Sisu continues to assure Raya it’s alright. Raya draws her sword anyway. Hurls it at Namaari. Namaari’s finger slips on the trigger. And Sisu dies. This is where a lot of the debate begins. Were they saying Raya should have blindly trusted Namaari and none of this would happened? Or was it not really about Namaari at all? Backing up the tape—Sisu was the one who assured Raya it was alright. Sisu had proven herself trustworthy over and over again throughout the movie (if not a bit scatter-brained at times). Even Raya trusted her by seeking her help in the first place. Raya couldn’t see past her own hurt with one person to trust someone who truly did care about her and whom she truly could trust. Taking the First Step Why is this all so important to me? Because I see this a lot. In myself. In others. In the stories I write. We’ve been hurt over and over again, sometimes by people we trusted very deeply. So we hide away in a little ball (not unlike Tuk-Tuk, really), shielding ourselves from everyone and everything. We don’t ask for help, because it’s safer to do it ourselves. Even from God. But Raya got a second chance. A chance to trust former enemies as they put the Dragon Gem back together. Even when it all seems to go wrong and she’s turned to stone. She took the first step. (Thanks for the line, Sisu.) There is still hope. There is still light. There is still Someone far more trustworthy than any dragon. And because of that, we can take the first step. Although it may not be giving a gift to someone who wants to kill you . . . it may just look more like the quiet acceptance of Someone you know can be trusted. When Raya took the first step, the Druun were destroyed. All those who turned to stone were restored. Sisu and the dragons returned. But most importantly, Kumandra was united again. Who can tell what might happen if we take the first step? *Have you seen Raya and the Last Dragon? What did you think of it? Share your adventures in the comments below!* When the first glimpses of San Fransokyo—and Disney’s Big Hero 6—lit up our TV screen, I had no idea what to expect. Or what I had just gotten myself into. I skeptically watched the first bot battle. When the end credits finally rolled, I was a devoted fan. Despite the movie being far outside the genre I usually read or watch, it quickly drew me in. How? Many things—the creativity of the plot, the diversity of the characters, and well, the Baymaxness of Baymax. But mostly, something deeper that was buried in the amateur superheroes and microbots and robotic nurses. Throughout the first quarter of the film, we not only meet the film’s protagonist Hiro Hamada, but we’re introduced to his older brother, Tadashi, too. Tadashi picks Hiro up when a bot battle goes wrong, doesn’t get (too) angry when that lands them both in jail, and even tricks things around so Hiro visits the tech school Tadashi attends—a visit that leads to Hiro abandoning his career in bot fighting and trying for their scholarship. Then Tadashi runs into a burning building to save his professor. And he doesn’t come back out. Without Tadashi, Hiro turns from bright, creative, and upbeat to withdrawn and depressed. Neither his Aunt Cass or his new-found friends or his abandoned scholarship to the university can bring him out of it. But maybe, an inflatable robotic nurse named Baymax can. I mean, that, and a plan to save the world from the microbots that Hiro himself invented that have now fallen into the hands of a masked man who may have killed Tadashi. What really drew me into the film was how real it was. I mean, yeah, San Fransokyo isn’t a real place, and we’re not likely to encounter microbots or inflatable nurses or basically any of the other tech in the film. But moments like when Hiro admits to Baymax, “People keep saying he’s not really gone, as long as we remember him . . . it still hurts.” Moments like when Hiro faces the masked man and confides, “You just let Tadashi die,” moments before he tries to kill the man. Moments like when Hiro desperately tries to open Baymax’s access port despite Baymax’s protests, ending by banging his fists against the robot and screaming, “Tadashi’s gone!” One thing I’ve learned through writing and reading and just living is that life hurts. I generally like to set forth life as an exciting, adventurous, and magical place to explore. And it is. But the truth is, all of that magic comes with its own shadows. And lots of people are hurting. Many writers create stories as a way to cope with very dark, very painful circumstances. Many readers turn to books for the same purpose. But if you ever passed any of these writers and readers in church? You would never be able to tell. They smile just as bright. They shrug. They say, “We’re fine.” But we’re not. In one scene early in the movie, Hiro trips and ends up wedged between his dresser and his bed frame. Baymax repeatedly asks him to rate his pain on a scale of one to ten. When Hiro insists he’s fine, Baymax pulls him out of the crevice anyway, adding, “It is alright to cry.” As the film progresses, Baymax continues his care, whether that be contacting Hiro’s friends for him, diving off the Golden Gate Bridge when he senses (before Hiro does) that their first flight is making him happy, or showing him a long-buried video of Tadashi when Hiro is at the end of himself. But none of that healing could happen while Hiro said he was fine. It is alright to cry. It is alright to scream. It is alright to not be alright. It’s alright to need help. It’s alright to hurt. I still believe the world is a place of wonder. It’s a place to heal. To find hope. As Tadashi told Baymax, and Hiro, and all of us, the world needs us. And maybe that will start when we admit that it still hurts. Maybe gather a few friends. Maybe make a few mistakes and shed a few tears. And then get back to work. *Have you seen Big Hero 6? What did you think of it? Share your adventures in the comments below!* What’s not to love about Disney’s Tangled? A remarkably sweet heroine who is amusingly naïve, but super bright at the same time and knows how to wield a pretty good frying pan. A thief who literally chose the worst hiding place in the world and now might have to look out for someone other than himself. A group of misfit thugs. Lessons involving trust. And last but certainly not least . . . Pascal. Yes, Rapunzel is one of my favorite Disney princesses.
Buried in the heart and whimsy of this film is a scene somewhere in the middle, right before the iconic floating lantern scene. Flynn and Rapunzel are out in the boat in the middle of the water, waiting for the floating lanterns that Rapunzel’s been waiting her whole life to see in person. Yet the usually-upbeat Rapunzel doesn’t look excited. In fact, she looks rather dejected. Flynn notices. “What’s wrong?” Rapunzel stares into the water and whispers, “I’m terrified.” Flynn asks the obvious question, “Why?” “I’ve been looking out a window for eighteen years dreaming about what it might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?” She gazes up at the night sky. Without hesitation, Flynn answers, “It will be.” “And what if it is?” Rapunzel sneaks a glance at him. “What do I do then?” “That’s the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream.” Life is constantly changing. Every day could be the day that something we’ve known forever could change. That’s a terrifying thought. Dreams aren’t exempt to that change. Something we’ve always thought we’d do isn’t what we think it is. Sometimes we don’t turn out to be who we thought we’d be. Sometimes life changes and the dreams closest to our heart can’t come true. It’s terrifying. It’s disappointing. If your dream seems as out of reach as the floating lanterns in the sky, don’t give up hope. Your dream isn’t over. It’s just time to go find a new one. Maybe your old dream is something you need to put away. Maybe it just needs to wait awhile. Maybe it can be transformed into something new. And that’s the good part. Rapunzel’s story is full of endings—leaving the tower, finally seeing the lanterns in person, losing the identity she’s always known, discovering the truth about Mother Gothel, cutting her hair, even losing Flynn. But out of each ending, a new beginning opened wide. Exploring the world she’d never known. Becoming the princess she truly was. Breaking free, both from her captor and from her tower. Healing Flynn. Meeting her real parents for the first time. So any dream you believe is dying might just be about to become a brilliant beginning. That’s the good part. *“What about you? What’s your dream?” (Yes, I may just want to see who can complete it with the next Tangled line in the comments below.) While you’re there, go ahead and answer the question for yourself—what’s your dream? What did you think of Tangled?* Last month, I discussed one of my all-time favorite movies, How to Train Your Dragon. And it just wouldn’t be complete without discussing its sequel as well! So, a quick warning before we jump in—if you are planning to see this movie or care if you ever see it, DO NOT READ THIS POST. How to Train Your Dragon 2 is one of those movies that cannot be discussed without spoilers, and believe you me, you do not want this movie spoiled. Moving on . . . Heading into How to Train Your Dragon 2, I was most worried about the character personalities. I’d seen enough graphics from the movie to know they’d updated how each character looked. Great. So now Hiccup will be older and more mature and everything will make sense and he’ll just breeze through life without a care in the world like how many other sequels. Yippee. Yeah, that’s not what happened. Sure, Hiccup and his dad, Stoick, have made up a little bit. But they sure don’t understand each other. Stoick is determined that Hiccup will become the next chief. And Hiccup is just not so really very extra sure he wants to . . . or, more accurately, that he’s ready to. But things like life rarely wait for us to be ready. (I mean, really, does he ever just have a normal date with Astrid?) Hiccup stumbles upon a group of dragon trappers who warn him of a coming threat—Drago, the alleged dragon master. Hiccup believes he can change Drago’s mind, despite Stoick’s warnings and the fact that Hiccup has only known he existed for about five minutes now. “This is what I’m good at,” he insists moments before he and Toothless sneak off—okay, there was no sneaking, it was very obvious that he was leaving—of the barricaded island. And just before he’s kidnapped by a vigilante dragon lady who is actually his mother. Valka has at least one notable mistake in her past—namely, leaving Hiccup. She genuinely believed that leaving was the safest thing she could do for him—after all, she wasn’t like all the other Vikings and believed they could make peace with the dragons. What if one did attack and she couldn’t bring herself to kill it? But she’s on a mission now to do her best to fix what she broke. What really struck me is how Valka just is. She apologized for the hurt she caused, she made it right, but she never apologized for who she was. She’s just herself—in the very best way she knows how. Meanwhile, Hiccup clings desperately to his hope of changing Drago’s mind, the only thing he thinks he can do. A hope that leaves him stranded in the heat of battle when Drago takes over Toothless’ mind and sends him to kill Hiccup. When Stoick takes the fatal blow to save Hiccup. (YEAH, SO I WAS NOT EMOTIONALLY PREPARED FOR THIS MOVIE.) At his dad’s funeral, after he’s shot the flaming arrow to burn his father’s ship, Hiccup stands on the beach with all his friends behind him. All waiting to hear what he has to say. What the plan is to get their dragons back. To save their island. (Better yet, watch the scene here. It's a hard scene to describe. Or if you don't feel like being emotionally pulverized, just read my description below.) And all he can say is, “I’m sorry, Dad.” The silence stretches on a minute, before he adds, “I’m not the chief you wanted to be. I’m not the peacekeeper I thought I was. I don’t know . . .” Valka steps forward and lays a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “You came early into this world. Such a wee thing. So frail, so fragile. I feared you wouldn’t make it. But your father, he never doubted. He always said you’d become the strongest of them all. And he was right. You have the heart of a chief, and the soul of a dragon. Only you can bring our worlds together. That is who you are, son.” That is who you are. Training dragons, changing people’s minds about them, the only things he thought he was good at, that was what Hiccup did. Not who he was. Hiccup stares into the growing flames. He confesses, “I was so afraid of becoming my dad. Mostly because I thought I never could. How do you become someone that great, that brave, that selfless? I guess you can only try.” So he just is who he is. And that is what helps him win back Toothless, defeat Drago, and save his village. Hiccup was so caught up in what he did that he lost sight of who he was. Sometimes we do the same thing. “I play this sport.” “I write this type of story.” “This is my career.” “I have been hurt in this way.” All of those things shape who we are. But they do not define who we are. Like Hiccup, we sometimes look to those who we view as chiefs in our lives. We worry how we can ever be as much as they are. It terrifies us, really. But it’s not about becoming them. It’s about becoming us. Like Valka. Like Hiccup. Who are you, really? When everything else is stripped away, what is still in your heart? That is who you are—who God has made you to be. All you can do is try. And together, He and you will do amazing things. *Have you seen How to Train Your Dragon 2? What did you think? What are the things closest to your heart? Share your adventures in the comments below!* I promise I do not think constantly about movies during family devotions. Just remember that fact. I don’t know about anyone else here, but I love How to Train Your Dragon. The characters, the story, the visuals, the soundtrack. It was one of the first movies a friend loaned us in a quarantine survival package last year, and I immediately got lost in the story. Still do. Back to family devotions. But they say to love God with all your mind, and well, my mind thinks about stories. A lot. So we read 1 Corinthians 1:26-28. “For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called: But God hath chosen the foolish things of this world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are.” And my brain went, “It’s just like How to Train Your Dragon!” Alright, I’ll explain. Spoilers abound for the movie, though, so tread carefully! How to Train Your Dragon opens with an intense dragon battle. Dragons spitting fire everywhere, Vikings swinging war hammers, and a whole lot of shouting. And in the thick of it is a teenage Viking named Hiccup, sticking out like the hidden object on a “What doesn’t belong?” activity page. All he wants is to kill a dragon and impress his father, Stoick, who also happens to be the village chief. And if he could impress his pretty blond classmate, Astrid, who’s working the fire brigade over there, he wouldn’t be mad about that, either. Only one problem--nothing about Hiccup is wired to kill a dragon. He's lucky to get from point a to point b without tripping over his own feet. Which is why he's kept hidden away in the blacksmith shop more often than not. Wonder of wonders, Hiccup manages to trap a dragon with his (not so) trusty homemade net-slinging invention. Not only does he catch a dragon, but he catches a Night Fury, the rarest of all dragons. He also gets chased by a dragon, has to have his dad save him, and burns half the village down. But does anyone believe him? Nope. Because, well, Hiccup’s tried this sort of thing before. With little success. So the only logical thing for Hiccup to do is to find his dragon himself and kill it. Then those other Vikings will have no choice but to believe him and accept him as one of them. Sure enough, he finds his dragon. He rips out his knife and holds it over the beast’s heart. But then, well, the big, black scaly dragon opens it eyes, looks at him, and whimpers. And then . . . Hiccup just can’t kill it. For some reason, he follows the dragon. And then he comes back again. And then he comes back again with fish. And then he comes back again with a new tail fin—after all, he was the one who shot the poor guy down, it's the least he could do. And then he comes back with a saddle. He dubs the beast Toothless, and the two get to understanding each other quite well. In fact, what Toothless teaches Hiccup about dragons makes Hiccup quite popular in dragon fighting class as well. Even Astrid has to admit it’s pretty cool. There is, however, that pesky problem of Hiccup having to kill a dragon for his final test in class. Or does he? I mean, if he could just train the dragon instead . . . Dad, however, is not impressed when Hiccup tries out his new found dragon training skills in the arena during his test. And he’s definitely not impressed when his new pal comes to save Hiccup when his attempts fall flat. In fact, the only idea he can conceive for what to do with Toothless is to use him to find the dragon nest and destroy it (which Stoick is a little obsessed with). “You’re not a Viking,” he says. “You’re not my son.” And as Hiccup watches the ships sail away—taking both his dad and Toothless with them—he wonders, “Why couldn’t I have killed that dragon when I found it in the woods?” “The rest of us would have done it,” ever-helpful Astrid points out. “So why didn’t you?” To everyone else, the idea of training dragons was foolish. After all, it’d never been done. To everyone else, Hiccup seemed weak—fumbling everything and barely able to lift an axe. Even to himself, Hiccup didn’t seem noble. All he wanted was to be like everyone else. But he wasn’t like everyone else. As Astrid pointed out, he was the first Viking to ever ride a dragon. The first Viking to even try. The first to throw down his helmet, toss aside his knife, and reach his hand out to a dragon. And if he hadn’t, if he’d gone on trying to be everyone else, he never would have saved his village from a threat they couldn’t even imagine yet. He never would have changed centuries’ worth of thinking. He would have never become who he was meant to be. You may feel weak, foolish, or less than noble. But take it from the dragons—if so, you might just be who God has in mind to change the world. See? Just like How to Train Your Dragon. *Have you seen How to Train Your Dragon? What did you think? Share your adventures in the comments!* So, yeah, I have way too many How to Train Your Dragon graphics that I like. So I just chose two for your enjoyment. I just saw Disney's Moana for the first time last month. And yeah. That's a whole lot of quirky packed into one movie. I expected a fun family summertime make-some-popcorn kind of movie. And it most definitely was. But it actually had some great themes to think about. Here’s the whole deal: Moana, daughter of an island chief, is fascinated with the water. Only problem is, her people don’t go beyond the reef. For any reason. The only reason they even go out to their tiny reef is to get fish. Dad’s got reasons for the rule (sort of). But there are two problems that are strongly suggesting it might be time for a change. One: A mysterious darkness is rotting the island’s coconuts and devouring the fish. Legend says it is due to the long-missing Heart of Te Fiti, a glowing green rock that has the power to create life. Unfortunately, it’s been buried in the ocean for years now, centuries, really. And only Moana’s grandma believes in it. Also, the darkness is coming for the natives next. Two: Moana was chosen by the ocean when she was just a toddler to find Maui (oh, yeah, the guy responsible for taking the heart) and restore the heart of Te Fiti. Might explain the fascination. The opening song Where You Are insists that “you can find happiness right where you are” (along with a bunch of random stuff about coconuts that I have yet to figure out). And the movie proves it’s true. Moana loves her island. She might have stayed there forever. But the ocean called her to something different. So Moana bravely defies tradition and sails off into the ocean alone. Oh, did I mention she can’t sail? If it weren’t for the ocean's "help" and running into Maui, she might have gone in circles forever. The more obstacles Moana and Maui run into, the more it becomes evident that Moana is not prepared for this role. Ever-helpful Maui reminds her of this frequently. The last straw comes when Moana causes Maui’s magical fish hook which allows him to shapeshift to be cracked. Maui, who believes he’s nothing aside from the powers bestowed upon him, leaves her stranded on the boat. Just Moana and the ocean. The wave surges up before her. Moana holds out the glowing heart. “I’m not the right person. Choose someone else,” she begs. “Please.” And the ocean seems to agree. It takes the heart and vanishes. But, in typical Disney fashion, a song and dance number with her grandma who is also a stingray reminds her of what the viewers have seen all along. Moana was the only one with spirit enough to dive headlong into the Kakamora pirates to rescue the heart. The only one with determination enough to hold her breath and jump into the Realm of Monsters. The only one clever enough to distract a giant killer crab with bioluminescent algae. The only one who dared to dream beyond the reef. The only one who could see past Te Ka’s fiery façade. Yes, the ocean made the right choice. We, too, are chosen. By someone much more powerful than the ocean or the legends or a magical fishhook. We are called to something different than those around us. We dream of things others haven’t dared to think of yet. A darkness is coming for our island as well. And it’s doing far more than just rotting coconuts. It’s taking away the light that our world needs so desperately. We have been chosen to bring life back to our seas. Sometimes we don’t want to leave our island. It’s perfectly safe and perfectly sound. We love it and we know exactly what our part is there. Sometimes we feel like all we are our own magical fishhooks. Like we’re nothing beyond the abilities or impressions we give other people. Sometimes we feel like we’re just bumbling our way through sailing. Like we don’t have any of the skills we need. And sometimes that makes us feel alone. We watch our best-laid plans vanish into the ocean and take it as more proof that we’re not meant to be here. But you are the one He chose. And whether or not you have all you need, you have something that makes you the only one to accomplish this mission. You don’t need demigods or magical fishhooks. You already know the way. So chart your course for new islands, explorer. *What did you think of Disney’s Moana? Have a favorite Moana song? Share your adventures in the comments below!* As a paraprofessional at an elementary school, I assist in leading reading groups in many different grade levels. I show up with books to read and listening ear at the scheduled time. But sometimes the classes just aren't quite ready for me at the scheduled time. In that case, I sit in the back and glance over my lesson plans one last time as I wait a few more minutes. But on this particular day, I found myself listening along with (most of) the class. The third graders--my last class of the day--were listening to their teacher read The Word Collector by Peter H. Reynolds. It's not a very long book, filled with simple words and bright illustrations. The story centers around Jerome, a boy who (you guessed it) collects words. Any interesting word that strikes his fancy, he jots down on a slip of paper and adds it to his scrapbook. Up to today, he'd always kept his words with other words of their types--big words with other big words, little words with other little words, so on and so forth. One day, however, he dropped his word collection. And as he picked them up, he realized there were wonderful combinations in them being mixed up. He experiments with different combinations of words, but finds that "the simple words were the most powerful." Jerome wants to share his words with the world. So he loads up all those little squares of paper, pushes them in a wheelbarrow to the top of a hill, and showers them on the valley below. It sounds like a simple story, but seriously. Take a minute and find a copy of The Word Collector or look up a read aloud video of it. We are all just like Jerome. No matter who we are or what we do, we collect words from the moment we're born. It's how we learn to use them. We collect words we hear. Words we read. Words we think. We collect beautiful words. Happy words. Sad words. Anxious words. Angry words. We collect words that should never be said. Words that can tear through a person. And words that make our day. I wish all words were the kind that could brighten a gray day. But even if we were completely perfect and never thought them ourselves, sad and angry words will still find their way into our collections whether we like it or not. And whether it's through writing or another method, we want to share our words with the world. So, a few things I'm remembering from Jerome's tale as share my words. Simple words are the most powerful. Words like "I'm sorry." "I understand." "Thank you." It may not take an eloquent speech to make the world for someone else. So say the words that need to be said. You don't have to keep sad or angry words in your collection. We cannot control the words others say to us, but we can control the ones we keep and share. Shake up your words. Maybe you don't like all the words you have. Maybe they seem flat and boring. Toss them into the air and see what patterns emerge. Look at them in a new way. Use them to create amazing words. Even the words we dislike the most can become something that lifts someone else up. Lastly, words are meant for sharing. So fling them out on the valley below and listen to what happens. Your words are meant for wonderful places. *Where could your words go? What are some of your favorite children's books? Share your adventures in the comments!* *I am so very excited to bring to you all today a guest post by fellow blogger Allison Grace! Once you've finished this incredible post about The Horse and His Boy, go check out her blog and sign up for her newsletter while you're there! I've been signed up for a while and have very much enjoyed her insight (and Oliver's adventures, too). Watch her blog tomorrow . . . a post of mine might show up (secret: It might have to do with The Magician's Nephew). https://allisongracewrites.com/articles/guest-post-from-rachel-leitch-how-digory-kirke-reminded-me-to-hope/ So without further ado, An Illustration of God's Sovereignty by Allison Grace!* There’s a scene in Chapter Eleven of C.S. Lewis’ The Horse and His Boy that nearly makes me cry. I’m usually not one to cry during books and movies. So it has to be something really special. And this scene is. If you want to avoid spoilers, I suggest you go read the book before continuing. ;) “I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice. “Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?” said Shasta. “There was only one lion,” said the Voice. “What on earth do you mean? I’ve just told you there were at least two the first night, and--” “There was only one: but he was swift of foot.” “How do you know?” “I was the lion.” And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.” While The Horse and His Boy certainly is not as allegorical as Lewis’ other books (most notably The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe) we as Christians can clearly see an illustration of God’s sovereignty. If you are familiar with the story, you can see that Aslan (the “Large Voice”) is behind every important part of the story. He has guided Shasta’s story from the very beginning. The same is true when you look at our world. If you think about the nation of Israel for a minute and you go all the way back to Abraham, you can see God’s hand.
And that’s just the beginning! Throughout the history of Israel, God has always preserved His people. Sometimes there is not a clear “lion” in the story, such as in the book of Esther. But He is always working. Now, it’s easy to think that God’s sovereignty and providence only extends to the big things or to the “important” people. But like an author controls all the elements in her writing, God has a hand in all the details of our lives. Nothing happens without a reason. Did you see what Aslan said in the quote? “I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead.” This isn’t a major plot point. This is nothing more than Aslan demonstrating his care for Shasta. Sometimes, when God works in our lives, it’s obvious and huge. And other times, it’s in tiny ways. But like Paul says in Romans 8:28, “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.” All things. Not just the big events of life--graduation, marriage, and eventually death--but all parts of our lives--our relationships, the school we attend, and where we work. I’m sure when Aslan told Shasta that he was behind-the-scenes in every situation, Shasta probably wondered why. He might have been asking, “But why did I ever have to be kidnapped as a baby anyway? Why did I have to go on this long journey? Couldn’t you have done it another way?” Let me tell you this: God doesn’t owe us any explanation for what He does. In fact, He doesn’t owe us anything. Maybe someday we will be able to look back on our lives and see how God was working. Or we may never be able to fully trace the thread of providence through our lives. But rest assured, God is working in every story and every situation. “...for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” Philippians 2:13 Allison Grace used to hate writing. Now she can’t imagine a world without telling stories. She has written several short stories and completed a novel. Her favorite themes to write about (fiction and nonfiction) are identity, faith, and redemption. She also has a whole stash of unfinished fan fiction no one is allowed to read. Besides writing, Allison loves to crochet stuffed animals and dolls to give to charities. She is a shameless Star Wars and Marvel nerd and can carry on an entire conversation solely in movie quotes. She blogs at allisongracewrites.com. Today, I'm going to start out the writing new year with an underrated animated film called Epic. Ever heard of it? At the center of this fun film is a magical pod--the last thing the kingdom of plant men and women have of their queen, and their only hope of defeating the enemy Boggans who'd like to rot their entire kingdom from the inside out. That pod is placed in the hands and care of Mary Katherine (MK) by Queen Tara as the queen's final act. Only problem? MK is a human, mysteriously shrunk down to the size of the plant warriors. She has no idea what she's doing there. She just wants to go home, if it can be called a home. She doesn't belong there. Or so she thinks. See, MK works better alone. It wasn't really her first choice--with her mom gone and her father, shall we say, distant, she had to adapt. "You may be connected," she tells Leafman commander Ronin. "But I'm kind of on my own." As for Ronin, he should be the expert on working with others. "Many leaves, one tree," is the Leafmen's motto, of which he is a leader. But no matter how hard he tries to protect anyone and everyone, he seems to lose everyone he cares most about--his best friend; Queen Tara; and his best friend's son, Nod. Nod is just tired of the Leafmen in general--or more accurately, just Ronin. He wants to do his own thing his own way, and usually does, no matter what anyone else says. The perfect trio to guard the kingdom's last hope. Changing gears here for a second. Writing has been aptly called the lonely craft. And it is. No one else can write our stories for us. We have to put on the noise-cancelling headphones and do it ourselves. Our stories are a whole different world, where anything can happen. Where things happen our way. Sometimes it's hard to remember that while we have to do the writing, we shouldn't do it alone. We need family, friends, readers, editors, and more to see us through. Some of us have people to support us. Some of us don't. Some of us can't even figure out what the people we call our team are even doing. It's so easy to hide our story world away and do things our way. How do we change that? Accept your strengths and weaknesses. Accept your uniqueness, what makes you you. No, MK didn't belong in their world, but that gave her unique advantages and connections to the human world. A different perspective that could turn the tides of battle. Yes, Ronin was over-protective. But perhaps it was that--the hurt he had seen--that made him such a good leader, willing to give anything for those we cared about most. Yes, Nod was reckless. But is was his spirit of adventure that stepped in and pulled the Leafmen together for one more battle when the odds were slim. You be you. You've got something no one else has. Use it to its full potential. And remember, everyone you're working with has their unique strengths and weaknesses, too. Maybe where you have the disadvantage, they excel. Find a way to bring them in. To encourage them to make the most of their abilities. Nod wouldn't have come along if Ronin hadn't asked. MK's dad wouldn't have helped them if she had given up on him. There will be mistakes as you and your team mates figure out those strengths and weaknesses and how to use them. Throughout Epic, all three characters make pretty big mistakes--multiple of which cost lives. While our mistakes aren't likely to do that, they can cause other problematic fall out. There's nothing to do but to climb back on your bird and fly again. To sort through the fall out and try again. This is not a feel-good post that says anything is possible when you work together. People are weird creatures. Some people reading this may truly not have anyone to support them. It's tough. It's really tough. But don't give up. Look for people who can help you, and people that you can help. Get connected somehow, even if it's not quite in the way you thought it would look. It's good advice for all of us--don't give up. Epic is a little over ninety minutes long. Imagine if even one of the trio of characters had given up thirty minutes in. Imagine what could happen if you give up now. Many leaves, one tree. Now climb your tree. *Ever seen Epic? What did you think? What's your team like? Share your adventures in the comments below!* |
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Hi, I'm Rachel! I'm the author of the posts here at ProseWorthy. Thanks for stopping by! Archives
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