C.S. Lewis: on glory

[And this brings me to] the other sense of glory—glory as brightness, splendour, luminosity. We are to shine as the sun, we are to be given the Morning Star. I think I begin to see what it means. In one way, of course, God has given us the Morning Star already: you can go and enjoy the gift on many fine mornings if you get up early enough. What more, you may ask, do we want? Ah, but we want so much more—something the books on aesthetics take little notice of. 

But the poets and the mythologies know all about it. We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it. That is why we have peopled air and earth and water with gods and goddesses and nymphs and elves—that, though we cannot, yet these projections can enjoy in themselves that beauty, grace, and power of which Nature is the image. That is why the poets tell us such lovely falsehoods. They talk as if the west wind could really sweep into a human soul; but it can’t. They tell us that “beauty born of murmuring sound” will pass into a human face; but it won’t. Or not yet. For if we take the imagery of Scripture seriously, if we believe that God will one day give us the Morning Star and cause us to put on the splendour of the sun, then we may surmise that both the ancient myths and the modern poetry, so false as history, may be very near the truth as prophecy. 

At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of he door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Someday, God willing, we shall get in. When human souls have become as perfect in voluntary obedience as the inanimate creation is in its lifeless obedience, then they will put on its glory, or rather that greater glory of which Nature is only the first sketch.
From The Weight of Glory
Compiled in Words to Live By

happy birthday, poppala.

Since he is my most faithful reader, I cannot help but post a birthday blog wish to the best dad ever. 

I am exceedingly grateful to call this man my father and can't imagine life without him. He doesn't take life (or himself) too seriously, has amazing musical talent (which I clearly inherited - ha), and has an endless supply of classic dad jokes. He is always trying to make me laugh and was always up for fun growing up (tickle monster, amusement parks, music videos at six flags, countless games of scattergories/bananagrams/catch phrase).

I love his child-like spirit and love seeing him be silly as a Paw-Paw now to his grandbabies. They adore him and I can't help thinking back to my childhood when I see him engaging with Hay and Mere in such a sweet way. It is such a blessing to witness.

 

I will never forget him waking up in the morning to see me off to school, always ready with my toasted bagel EXTRA cream cheese and a smile on his face. He always sent me off with a "Jesus bless your day." And then, when I broke my wrists, he was right there again, serving me as the hands and feet of Christ. He was constantly checking on me, bringing me countless drinks, snacks, and driving me to all my PT appointments.

But beyond all that, I treasure his faith in Christ and his desire to daily live out the gospel in a tangible way. What a gift to have a father who desires to please our Heavenly Father.

So Happy, Happy Birthday, to my dear 'ole Dad. You are a husband, father, Paw-Paw, brother, uncle, son, and friend. But most importantly, you are a co-heir of the Kingdom of Christ, a son of the Almighty, created in God's image...and for that above all, we celebrate your life.