this is my induction into the world of blogging. as a "writer" (or at this time, "poser") i thought it would be a good exercise for my mind, skills, etc to take a go at blogging. so, here it goes.
the title? Tolkein's Rivendell encapsulates something (or things), some place, i long for and will search for while on this terra firma. wisdom, healing, growth, authority and power, leadership, discipleship, restoration, beauty, truth, peace and loveliness... only a few of the words that, in my estimation, simply describe Rivendell, or rather what i see in Rivendell and desire from this life.
when i lived in a "little" borrough/big city in Europe, i named my room Rivendell. it was sanctuary. in that tiny attic space barely large enough for one, let alone two adults, i escaped to books, novels, theology, apologetics, children's literature, and several fantastical worlds. it was where i met Bilbo and Frodo and Gandalf for the first time. i decorated my tiny abode with sheer curtains, a few art pieces i had gathered from my travels, a tiny lamp with a lovely red shade, and one single plant, an ivy that flourished and grew throughout my year there.
in one sense, the sense that overwhelmed all others for me during my time there, outside of my door was in no way lovely to behold. when on Christmas morning the first bells i heard were the bells of the prostitutes (rung to alert their pimp when a customer is out of hand) and not the bells ringing from the ancient towers to commemorate the day, i knew i was no longer in "kansas". there was a prevalent soft drug industry which "softened the way" for the very aggressive hard drug industry; there were refugees who could only get jobs in those industries selling on just about every street corner; hopeless story after hopeless story of those refugees; the street kids who couldn't (or wouldn't) stop destructive behaviors; the cries of the broken screaming for mercy; much mockery of my faith; sex "industry" that really more looked like slavery; the lost and discarded whose arms were scarred by suicide attempt after suicide attempt; the sex offenders who groped for free; the lies; the pride; poverty and starvation; the mother wailing for her children as they were taken away because she had no home; the murders not too far from my door; the smell of urine on every street corner; the woman dressed in the finest clothing crawling around on the ground like a dog, blood streaming from her nose, desperately seeking that last coke rock for the next hit; the addicts you thought were on the road to recovery but found wandering aimlessly like zombies through the crowds. this was the brokenness around me, the smell, the taste of.... death. it is no wonder Room #2 was christened after a fantastical place.
in that room and in that place, i began the quest for goodness, truth and beauty. my time there has marked me, changed me and so i endeavor to search for those things. my life, i hope, will be a testimony of that quest. the voyage, the adventure, will be recorded some through these pages. let me now don a scarlet scarf and an Indiana Jones hat, and step out to seek and find that place where elves and dwarfs and man and hobbits meet.
the title? Tolkein's Rivendell encapsulates something (or things), some place, i long for and will search for while on this terra firma. wisdom, healing, growth, authority and power, leadership, discipleship, restoration, beauty, truth, peace and loveliness... only a few of the words that, in my estimation, simply describe Rivendell, or rather what i see in Rivendell and desire from this life.
when i lived in a "little" borrough/big city in Europe, i named my room Rivendell. it was sanctuary. in that tiny attic space barely large enough for one, let alone two adults, i escaped to books, novels, theology, apologetics, children's literature, and several fantastical worlds. it was where i met Bilbo and Frodo and Gandalf for the first time. i decorated my tiny abode with sheer curtains, a few art pieces i had gathered from my travels, a tiny lamp with a lovely red shade, and one single plant, an ivy that flourished and grew throughout my year there.
in one sense, the sense that overwhelmed all others for me during my time there, outside of my door was in no way lovely to behold. when on Christmas morning the first bells i heard were the bells of the prostitutes (rung to alert their pimp when a customer is out of hand) and not the bells ringing from the ancient towers to commemorate the day, i knew i was no longer in "kansas". there was a prevalent soft drug industry which "softened the way" for the very aggressive hard drug industry; there were refugees who could only get jobs in those industries selling on just about every street corner; hopeless story after hopeless story of those refugees; the street kids who couldn't (or wouldn't) stop destructive behaviors; the cries of the broken screaming for mercy; much mockery of my faith; sex "industry" that really more looked like slavery; the lost and discarded whose arms were scarred by suicide attempt after suicide attempt; the sex offenders who groped for free; the lies; the pride; poverty and starvation; the mother wailing for her children as they were taken away because she had no home; the murders not too far from my door; the smell of urine on every street corner; the woman dressed in the finest clothing crawling around on the ground like a dog, blood streaming from her nose, desperately seeking that last coke rock for the next hit; the addicts you thought were on the road to recovery but found wandering aimlessly like zombies through the crowds. this was the brokenness around me, the smell, the taste of.... death. it is no wonder Room #2 was christened after a fantastical place.
in that room and in that place, i began the quest for goodness, truth and beauty. my time there has marked me, changed me and so i endeavor to search for those things. my life, i hope, will be a testimony of that quest. the voyage, the adventure, will be recorded some through these pages. let me now don a scarlet scarf and an Indiana Jones hat, and step out to seek and find that place where elves and dwarfs and man and hobbits meet.
1 comment:
you are so beautiful, my dear friend. i am so very happy to begin to read the words of your heart here...so many things i have yet to learn about you!
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