Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows vs The Gospel

[Disclaimer: This is a (relaxed, impersonal research) paper that is piggy-backing off of a semester of papers and conversations between myself and my professor, and is continued in a later paper.]

The most important theme when looking at Christian fantasy, or the Christian myth within fantasy, is sacrificial love, in my opinion. It is also the most significant aspect of the entire Harry Potter series. It is how Harry survived as a baby, how he continued to survive, how Dumbledore died and Harry (inadvertently) got the elder wand, and how Harry saved the Wizarding world. Lily dies to save Harry, Dumbledore dies for the greater good, and Harry dies to save all, each sacrifice made out of love. Even Snape, in his own way, died for the woman he loved (and, by proxy, her son). Each of these, in their own ways, reflect the greatest gift of sacrificial love ever: when Jesus died on the cross.

Advertisements

I’m a Failure

I was recently talking to a friend about being vulnerable. Or, rather, not being vulnerable. It’s no secret that I’m not good at it. I hide my past, my pain, my failures, my shame, and my fears. I hide them until I can make them pretty and polished enough to post on this blog. Until they’re no longer ugly and sensitive, but scarred over and complete with a bow, ready to be presented to anyone who will pay attention.

I was given a challenge by my friend – Next time I write in my journal, share it. With no edits, just raw and vulnerable truth.

Partners Forever.

Shocker, Shocker, your girl got another tattoo.

I’ve been thinking about what to get for a while now. I want one with my mom and I want a ship and some lines from “City of Hope” by Amanda Cook. I want a dragon and a snake and a million other things. But I’d been putting off what was next because nothing felt like the perfect thing to get now. 

Then, a few months ago, our family got some sad news. Just a few weeks after my dad made his recovery, we heard that my grandpa, my mom’s incredible father, was diagnosed with a tumor on his brain. We were given a plan and an expected time frame.

Suddenly it became very real about how much time I have with the people I love.

On Your Mark

Get Set.

GO!

We all heard this when we were children. We stood in a line, looked at our friends or classmates next to us, and prepared to take off running.

We heard the words like a gunshot in the air. We heard them like a whistle. Like a command. Like a promise of a win, of a finish line, of a race.

On your mark.

Bend your knees and touch your fingers to the soft earth. Lift your tale and take a deep breath. Feel every muscle in your body.

Get set.

Look forward. Visualize yourself running. See the finish line. Feel the race about to begin.

GO!

Airborne

The average mosquito cannot fly far or fast, often staying within several hundred feet of where they were hatched.

 

Airborne travel is my family’s love language but it seemed to fissure and break as I stepped on the cross Atlantic flight. I could smell every meal, the packaged cookies like an off-brand Christmas and the bitter coffee a reminder that my eyes sagged. The meat made my jaw tired and the rice tickled my teeth. The air was thin and each breath made my throat tighten. I started watching the horror film, It just as the plane reached the Atlantic. Pennywise, with a drooping smile, sharp teeth, and a lazy eye, morphed to fit the child’s biggest fear, a walking infection, a burnt corpse, a headless body. I wondered what he would become for me. But then I knew he could not become my biggest fear. A small mosquito already had.

The Storm’s Purpose

You might be in pain. You might be battling sickness. You may be suffering a loss. You may feel insecure. Lost about the future. Worried about your child or your friend. You may suffer from anxiety or depression or helplessness. You may feel dragged down with guilt or struggles you can’t seem to overcome.

You might be in the middle of the storm.

But remember three words that Jesus once spoke that still apply today: “Peace. Be still!”

Your pain is not too big for God. And your pain will not be pointless. The storm may not end how you want it to, but it will end, and God will bring beauty out of the pain.

How often do you feel you need to be in control of life? In control of what happens tomorrow, in control of what grade you make, in control of your job, in control of your relationships, in control of your weight, in control of how the world sees you.

Falling

Fear, uncertainty, release, vulnerability.

The fear that you’re not supposed to be moving so quickly, so assuredly to an unforgiving landing. Uncertain if the land will leave you with breath in your lungs or intact bones in your legs. The release of the pressure that is standing, keeping yourself whole and unbroken and tall and strong. Vulnerable because you are no longer standing and strong, but defenseless to the ground that is rushing up to meet you with a smile of disaster.

Falling usually ends in breaking, in disaster, in needing to be fixed.

But sometimes falling is good. It’s fun, thrilling. When you fall out of an airplane and feel that rush of excitement in the bottom of your gut. When adrenaline is fire in your veins before you pull the string to release the parachute.

In My Darkest Days

I started this blog over five years ago with this post. I was about to go to YWAM in Kona, Hawaii for some of the best seven months of my life. I was getting ready to catalogue everything I learned while at YWAM, everything Jesus did, what I saw and who I met and what was happening in my life. I was 17, about to leave home for the first time to live across the ocean from my family. I knew it was going to be a crazy time in my life and I wanted to have a written history I could return to just as much as I wanted to share my experiences.

Look how cute I was in 2013

I’ve had this blog through my entire college career. That first semester spent in Hawaii and Amsterdam getting to know myself, Jesus, his world, and making him known. I had it when I started college in Fayetteville, when I entered the worst two years of my life (all fault my own for that dark period), the faithfulness of Jesus when I left the dangerous situation I got myself in, the year I took off of school and lived at home and worked full time. I had the blog when I grudgingly enrolled at A&M, my dad almost died, I worked in news, and now. Finally my last semester of college.

Forever Magical. Forever Young. – Final Part

Photography by: Brandon Woelfel

Peter is my best friend.

More so than any of my other children, Peter and I enjoy each other. We laugh and cook and clean and I even teach him some of my potions, though to truly work they need a bit of my magic. He helps me through grieving when Lionel, Abigail, and Theodosia leave. He becomes close with Abram, who is only a few months older than him, and helps me with the two girls I save a few months apart a year after he came home with me. Peter and I explore The Wood and meet all the creatures that loan me their gifts and strengths. He listens to my teachings and even comes with me once when I go to save a child. That one ended up refusing me, though. That doesn’t happen often, but enough to make me question everything I do.

Forever Young. Forever Magical. – Part 3

Photography by: Brandon Woelfel

I can’t take it anymore. I need it to end. Please.

I sit up in bed, the cry from two towns over echoing in my dreams. It’s a young boy, about nine years old, sitting on the floor of his tiny bedroom. He’s crying and bleeding, listening to screaming in the next room. Usually, I would wait a week and assess the situation and get my current children prepared before leaving, but today is different. If I don’t save this child, he will take matters into his own hands. I can feel it.