Books and Movies, Musings

Sci-fi and Jesus

I love stories. I’m not only  a storyteller, I’m also a story collector. I don’t care if the tale is written, acted, or completely non-verbal. Stories are who we are. They are how we communicate our true, subconscious feelings. Anyone who has given me 5 minutes (whether in person or in my writing) knows that I interpret things differently from a lot of people. I’ve been known to use stories I’ve collected to explain ideas, often in ways that make heads spin. Science fiction is one of my favorite things to pull these bewildering pictures from.

170351e2d72bcdad2ade91c6ab0795f3I love it, because Sci-fi opens up the mind to ideas that seem just insane. Truth is ever so much stranger than fiction,  and it can be helpful in wrapping your brain around life. Take Doctor Who, for example. It is so beautifully full of allegories. My favorite is one that my Fairy Godmother told me.

Your heart is a TARDIS. It is bigger on the inside. It is old and new at the same time. Old, because it is also His heart. New, because you are a new creation and you are continually being renewed. It has more rooms than you could ever discover. There is more power in it than could ever be understood.

I think sometimes we get so caught up in this world that we try to fit everything into it. But, we aren’t simply earthly creatures, we are also creatures of a different realm. One with completely different physics. It’s weird. But it’s beautiful. If you can accept some of the crazy ways things work in stories, sometimes it’s easier to grasp concepts like grace. Grace really doesn’t make any sense. When someone has done wrong, you should retaliate or correct them. Grace not only seems foolish, it sounds unjust. But when you have accepted things like the fact that the TARDIS is unfathomably enormous, the idea that maybe our idea of justice isn’t exactly right isn’t as hard to grasp. Nothing is truly as it seems. There is so much we don’t know about our Magnificent and Glorious Life.

I know I’m hardly a nerd. I’ve been told that I really can’t even say that I like sci-fi because I haven’t read or seen certain things. But I don’t think you have to be super well versed in the genre to learn from it. Jesus is literally everywhere. He is so ingrained in the world that you only have to open your eyes. There He is.

Books and Movies

Volumes of Rows

A young woman wandered through the shelves that seemed to go on and on for an eternity. Now and then, sliding a volume into the rows. It was slow business. Finding the home of each soft leather or crinkled paper binding. She had been walking for hours, but time never seemed to move. The soft carpet and reams of paper dampered any and all sounds. It was peaceful.

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The books never seemed to run out, and the silence never seemed to end. The monotony began to make her feel uncomfortable, she hummed quietly.

She walked on, humming and sliding books into place. There was a creak behind her, like the sound of paper being compressed and then quickly released. She whirled around, only to find a single large book lying open on the floor several yards behind her. Curious, she slowly made her way back to it. There had been no sound of it dropping. She looked at the pages. There were few words and a place were a picture had once been, but was recently erased. Carefully closing the book, she slipped it back into position and carried on with her stack.

On and on, row after row. All was silent for what felt like hours. Then, a rustle of pages, but nothing to see. She started walking faster.  A quiet footfall. She looked, the sound was gone. Faster. A brush of fibers on a shelf.  Running. Another creak. She stopped, but didn’t turn around. Warm, moist air puffed against the back of her neck. Heart racing, immobile, she stood with her eyes shut. Her armload of books tumbled to the ground, and her knees sank to the floor.

The breathing stopped as she turned to face her tormentor. Behind her lay the large book, again, lying open on the floor. She crawled to it, hoping for an answer, but only finding the same few words and missing picture. As she looked at the words, they swam around the page. Never holding still long enough to be read. Slowly leaning in to get a better view and trying to make sense of the markings. She found her hands attempting to grasp the words. A tear dripped onto the page. The words flocked to the drop, and were still just long enough for her to read them. “Beware the empty page.”

A rustle of paper. A suppressed scream. The page was no longer empty.