In the Ivory Tower: A Tribute

I love to read. Because of this love, which quite probably could be labeled an addiction, I have a long list of authors who have influenced my creativity. Charles Dickens, C.S. Lewis, Fyodor Dostoevsky, J.R.R. Tolkien, and G.K. Chesterton, to name a few. A relatively new author that has made the list is Regina Doman. She was added my Junior year in high school, around the same time as Dostoevsky. One reason she stands out among the rest is that she, unlike 98% of my list, is still alive and still writing. Her series I found to be so compelling were the Fairy Tales Retold novels. Some might scoff - and some have - at the seeming simplicity of such a series. Those who do have not read their Chesterton. For Doman and Chesterton are similar in that they know how to use the simplicity of a story to communicate heavy truths. Yes, Doman's lead female characters meet princes in disguise, contend with almost other-worldly villains, and are suddenly revealed to be princesses themselves. There is (very satisfactorily) always a happy ending. Yet, in the midst of these contrasting and colorful characters Doman weaves unexpectedly deep truths about the world. There is evil, and evil is very real. Good contends with evil, but it does not eradicate evil without a price. There are consequences for sin. The truth sets people free, but not without a cost. Love is expensive, but the cost is nothing compared to what is gained.
These are some of the truths revealed in Doman's book. 
Doman recently put on a competition for all of her readers and followers to show how they, like her characters, live their lives as princesses in disguise through picture compilations. I do not take pictures very well, though my sister dragged me in for a couple with her belatedly. I prefer to use my words to taking pictures. Her post, and the subsequent posts of all of  the young women who participated, struck a chord that resonated with me. Words began to fit themselves together, and I scribbled down the following:

There is a beauty that cannot be captured in pictures or words. A life that is lived has a beauty you cannot quite express. It rests upon the tip of your tongue; it dances in the dust moats that float through your pictures. You cannot speak it, for the words slip away before they fall from your lips. You cannot capture it, for it is as elusive as a phantom. You must live it. To live a life beautifully; that is a great adventure.
Being a princess does not mean wearing a crown, or saluting crowds on church steps or from fancy cars. There are princesses and they are in disguise. They are not aware that they are princesses because they are caught up in realizing and living the beauty and glory of a life that can only come from God. A true princess is one who sees the beauty in her life and revels in it. Perhaps one day she will realize that she is a princess, but I do not think it will matter much to her when she does. She is too busy living, and that is what makes a princess beautiful.


Perhaps this is a tad simple and cheesy, but I am not ashamed of being either. I am thankful to Regina Doman for the work she has done, that I have benefited from, and the way she has encouraged me to read more Chesterton. That, come to think of it, might be her best influence of all. 

In the Ivory Tower: On Good Things

If more people saw the beauty in life, perhaps they would live differently. There is so much trouble and hardship in this life, it is easy to lose sight of the goodness God brings to our lives. Anger, fear, and hurt cloud our vision and we do not see the beauty and goodness in our lives, sure signs of the goodness of our God.
I look up at the sky and see a clear blue patch. Clouds have billowed up and covered much of the blue with gray. Soon big, fat drops of rain splatter on to my windshield as I drive to work. In that moment I experience three good things: 1) a car to take me to, 2), my job which provides for my needs. 3) It is raining, which is a great blessing in the dry dusty heat of Oklahoma Summer.
I step out of the rain into the cool dimness of the stairwell. Two flights down takes me to the basement. I follow the chipped linoleum of the hallway around until I come to a thick wooden door. Punching in the code, I shove the door open to reveal a tall counter, three desk areas, and a handful of dingy office chairs all bathed in fluorescent light. As I walk in to put my purse in my locker and my lunch in the break-room fridge, one of the pharmacists tells me, "good morning." Automatically I respond, "good morning."
I do not ponder the phrase, "good morning." I am too busy punching in my number on the time clock.

"Good morning."

Yes, it is a good morning, if only because I am alive and at work on time. It is a good morning, because I have a car that runs, coworkers who are friendly enough to wish me "good morning", and a God who is reigning and who gives good things to His children.
Another fact that I should wake each morning with full reminder of is that I am God's child. What if we Christians lived with that knowledge at the forefront of our minds? Suddenly the red light that kept me at the intersection longer than I'd like has no bearing on my life. Suddenly that issue I need to talk to my coworker about is not so intimidating. Suddenly that nearly-emptied bank account does not matter. I am God's child; He cares for my needs and He gives me good things.

In the Ivory Tower: When I am Called to Wait

A solitary silence presses upon my life. I hear the words whispered throughout moments and days: wait. It is a command I long to ignore, to turn my back upon, to abandon this tower. I rest in the window of my tower and gaze out upon the lives of others. Theirs are filled with colorful things, with such motion and noise. Still I sit in my tower and wait.

Waiting becomes irksome to us as humans. We detest such a command to wait. A young child, when told to wait to help himself to a piece of candy, will beg, whine, and weep with frustration. Do not we grown-ups do the same? We are called to wait; for marriage, for a car, for a job, for peace, for joy. Our response too often is to beat our fists upon the walls of our towers in rebellion.

I have found myself in the unique position of being commanded to wait, not merely in one respect, but in every respect.  I sit at the crossroads of my life and wait. For what? Some indication of which path to choose? For a tangible change in my life circumstances that forces me in one direction? 

Psalm 62:1 says, "For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation." I am waiting for God. I find it very interesting that we, as people called by God, are called to do things we are not capable of doing. No human's first inclination is to wait. Yet God commands us to wait, and not to wait for a clear indication of what we are to do. No, we are commanded to wait for Him to act. When I find myself flat on my back, helpless in the grip of my pain, I wait for God. When I find myself frustrated with the relationships that I have, the stagnation I perceive building up in them, I wait for God. When I feel the fist of despair grip my soul, when I'm caught in the throws of grief over my sin and over loss, I wait for God. The Psalmist says he waits on God in silence, "for my hope is from him" (verse 5). There is a silence, a peace, in waiting for God. We wait on God expectantly, not clamorously. There is a peace we have when we truly wait upon God. 

This peace stems from our hope in Him. If we are truly hoping in God, that He will answer and save, it is then that we have peace. God calls us to wait peacefully, expectantly upon Him at each crossroads in our lives. 

How can we, who are so impatient, wait patiently for God? God commands us to do what we cannot do, so that He might do it for us. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says, "he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." I am called to do what I cannot in my weakness fulfill, so that Christ may do it for me. I am called to be weak for the express purpose of showing his power. I am called to do that which I fail to do, so that His grace may abound. I am called to wait.