The Real Thing

Photo by Kayla Jackson

Photo by Kayla Jackson

I grew up listening to "The Chronicles of Narnia" by C.S. Lewis over and over before bed or on long car rides with my brothers. All seven books I'm pretty sure are tucked away into the long term memory of my mind. Just like most childhood memories, there's always this sense of nostalgia that comes with the thought of the Chronicles. In the final book, "The Last Battle," the kings and queens are entering Aslan's World. Lucy Pevensie remarks on the colors in this Heaven and tries to compare it to Narnia as "more like," and then Diggory says, "More like the real thing." 
We live in a shadow of the real thing. But we have a calling or desire for something like the real thing. I've been reading Ecclesiastes and how we have an essence or desire for eternity in our hearts. We have desires for love, safety, belonging which are never satisfied in this life. 

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

Ecclesiastes 3:11

The truth of the quote, "More like the real thing," tugs on a string we've raveled full of the belief that this life is all there is. But we have a desire for something more that we can't ignore easily. Everything in this life, be it sorrow, joy, the brightness of a color, or a child's laugh is only a shadow of eternity. Lean into this forwarded nostalgia, this yearning for something coming.

I wrote a poem a couple weeks ago about this passage. Something I don’t do often, but I thought I’d share.

I have a desire, knit into the fabric of my heart for something. Something too holy to speak but too precious to keep hidden. A desire to belong and be loved, to be called beloved. It smells like the earth after rain or a freshly brewed pot of coffee. It tastes like a purple poptart or Chamomile tea. It sounds like a perfect cadence or Julie Andrews singing “do re mi.” It’s blissful nostalgia mixed with sorrow. It’s a longing for something past that isn’t quite here yet. It’s the real thing.