The Princess and the Dragon

The Princess and the Dragon
There once was a small mountainous kingdom called
Hinnom. The kingdom was ruled by an old king who had only
one love. He had an only daughter whose name was Charis.
Unlike most princesses of popular folklore, our princess was
hideous; so ugly that her father the king had a very hard time
finding suitors who would court his daughter. This seemed odd
because Charis was known for her gracious behavior, not to
mention that, though a small kingdom Hinnom was very
wealthy. Most of the wealth in Hinnom was in livestock in the
form of sheep and goats.
Because there was little hope of Charis ever being married,
she found companionship among the herds. Other than the
king, it seemed as if the sheep and goats were the only ones
who loved Charis. She prided herself in being able to speak their
language. They would respond to her call and would follow her
anywhere. Charis spent most of her waking hours with the
sheep and the goats, except, that is, on the night that occurred
every month three days after the new moon.
On that night, the darkest in the mountain kingdom, a
terrible dragon would make his way from a cave in Dark Valley,
fly into the fields of Hinnom and have his fill on two or three of
the fattest goats. The dragon loved goats. The goats were
among Charis’ favorites of all the animals of Hinnom, perhaps
because they were as ugly as she was or perhaps because no
one really liked them either. The third day after the new moon
was very hard on Charis because she knew the fate of the
animals she loved. She had to be dragged from the fields by the
king’s servants and locked in her room until the deed was over.
For many years the wisest of the wise had gathered to
determine how to rid the kingdom of this awful blight. Some
had suggested they leave the mountains and give up any
dreams of peace. Others had concocted ways to kill the dragon.
One even suggested that they make the dragon king.
Only one could come up with the plan that was suggested
when all other plans had failed. Ekim, the king’s most trusted,
suggested a plan that would not have been taken serious had it
not been for the one who had spoken it. Ekim was the one
whom the people believed might even be the very one to slay
the dragon. He dared the unthinkable, the impossible. His
reasoning was clear. Charis was of little good to the kingdom.
She was unbearable to look upon and constantly smelled of
goats. The future of Hinnom was at stake because it was widely
known that the king had offered over half the kingdom to
anyone who would marry her and he had no takers. What
would become of the kingdom with her as queen and ne’er a
chance that she would ever produce any offspring? Ekim
suggested that she take all her smelly, ugly goats and march
them to the Dark Valley and beg the dragon to leave her people
alone. One jokester said that Charis was so ugly that the dragon
may actually die of fright if he looked at her face. The king’s
men thought the plan may just work and went about how they
would force the king to do such a thing to his daughter. The
hard part would be to trick Charis into giving up her goats for
the people who had spurned her all her life. Maybe, just maybe,
she would obey the one who had loved her in spite of her
repulsive appearance. Would the king dare such an
arrangement? It would have to be his choice and he would have
to believe that it was the only chance for the survival of the
kingdom.
After many days and even more tears the king was
convinced that the plan may be the only way. He finally agreed
but only if Charis would do it without reservation. If her eyes
even moistened the king would call off the plan and suffer
under the terror of the dragon and deal with the consequences
of having no heir. He called Charis to the throne room and laid
out the plan. She would march the goats from the fields of the
kingdom to the Dark Valley where she would offer them to the
dragon in return for the peace of the kingdom. He explained
that the dragon may very well eat her but at a very minimum it
would be the end of goats in the kingdom. When and if she
made her way back to Hinnom, the goats that she loved would
soon be only a memory. Surely, the dragon would eat them all
in short order.
As Charis listened, her heart grew heavy but when she saw
the gravity of the matter in her father’s eyes she knew she had
little choice. She would go. And go she did. That very day she
walked to the field as she had every day since she could walk
and led the goats toward the Dark Valley. They followed
without hesitation not caring where they were going.
The journey was long but not long enough. Charis had too
much time to think. She thought about the eminent death of
her only friends. She thought about her own death. She also
thought about her father and how hard this must be on him. He
really did love her. She never thought about turning back. She
arrived after three days. She had left on the night of the new
moon.
The cave, she was told, would not be hard to find. First, she
would smell the brimstone, and then she would feel the heat. If
she was lucky she would see the flames before the dragon saw
her. She did. Then he saw her. She didn’t make a sound and he
didn’t make a move. He didn’t look as scary as she imagined. In
fact, she saw a glimpse of what she could have mistaken for
kindness. Was it kindness? She stepped forward to make her
plea. Behind her the goats began to back up nervously, yet
never taking their eyes off the dragon. Before Charis could say
anything, the dragon stepped out of the cave entrance and
stooped down. Then, placing his head near the ground, the
dragon looked into the eyes of the princess. He tilted his head
slightly as if he was questioning whether or not what he saw
was real. Who was this human who would dare enter the Dark
Valley? He had never seen one so close. He had certainly never
seen one so brave. Charis told him the whole story and asked if
the trade would be enough to keep him away from the
Kingdom of Hinnom. He was baffled. Who would make such an
offer? Hadn’t she said that she loved the goats? Could it be that
she loved the king more?
Then, the strangest thing Charis had ever seen began to take
place before her very eyes. A giant emerald tear slid down the
dragons jaw. It hit the ground with a thud. She fully expected
that it would splash and cover her. It didn’t splash though. It
was not a tear at all but what looked to be a scale. She looked
back into the dragons eyes. More of these green scaly tears
began to drop all around. It was raining green scaly tears. The
dragon started to change. He began to get smaller and what
had been a large ferocious lizard began to take the form of a
man. Charis didn’t know whether to scream in terror or shout
for the sheer joy of what she was seeing. Before she could
comprehend what was taking place, a boy so handsome that
she felt ashamed to be in his presence stepped from among a
pile of emerald scales. Naked, he picked up one of the scales to
cover himself and walked toward her. He introduced himself as
Mada and told an incredible story of how he had been cursed by
an evil wizard. He was destined to live out his life in the Dark
Valley. He feared that he would never know love or beauty
again, but now he had come face to face with both. And it had
changed him. She had changed him. He reached out and took
her hand. Charis, too stunned to speak, felt something that she
had only felt from her father and the goats. She felt loved. She
felt beautiful. The journey back to Hinnom was long but not
long enough.
When the king, who had hopefully waited for the return of
his daughter, saw her, he was overjoyed. He ran out to greet
her but before he could say anything, Mada, without
introduction, asked the king for his daughter’s hand in
marriage. When he found out that the dragon had been
destroyed, he agreed. To this day you can see Mada and Charis
among the goats and all is well. All shall be well.

Saved!

My six year old came to me the other night and told me that he wanted to get saved. He had been at VBS all week and his cousin had also gotten saved. He asked me how to do it? What did he need to say? I told him that he needed to ask Jesus to trade lives with him. To ask Him to take his life and give him His. It seemed to be good enough for my son. He prayed. My wife seemed afraid that maybe he was too young to understand or that maybe he didn't say the right words. I though about that. I came to the conclusion that if Jesus would turn down a 6 year old boy because he didn't say the right words or have his motivation down pat then we are all hopeless. It also led me to consider what exactly it means to be saved. Saved from what? Saved from Hell? That's what I've been told all my life but Jesus has saved me from so much more. Mostly me. His Holy Spirit speaking to me when I didn't know exactly what to do. His love penetrating my heart when I was ready to give it away to the world. I don't know what the Lord has in store for my son. But I do know that he is crucified with Christ and the Life that he now lives he lives by the faith of the Son of God who loved him and gave Himself for him. Yep Jesus will get ripped off in this life trade. He won't get in return what He has given my son. But He did it any way.

On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness

Maya Angelou, or so I've been told, once said something to the effect that people rarely remember what you say or do but they always remember how they made you feel. Andrew Peterson's first novel "On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness" illustrates this in a profound way for me. Its a book for young adults but being a fan of his music I had to read it. I'm glad I did. My grandpa Brown used to say, "Ive got a longin' to go home." As a young boy I never really knew exactly what he meant. The older I get the more I understand it. We are simply not meant for this world. As Mr. Peterson says in his self same titled album we are in a Far Country. I've grown to believe that one of the reasons that God allows the tribulation here is to make us long for something more. In OTEOTDSOD, we are told a tale about there siblings , the Igibys, who experience more that their share of worldly trials. It is a fantasy tale of Toothy Cows and the Fangs of Dang (lizard men). But more it is a tale of Something More. We are reminded that the "Something More" is at the heart of all our feelings. G.K. Chesterton once said that no man had ever walked into a brothel that wasn't looking for God. Andrew Peterson gets to the heart of this. I laughed more than I've laughed in a while. I cried at the end. Not because of a happy or a sad ending but because I was reminded that the longing is real; that my feelings that there is something beyond all this are validated. If you can, read the book. If you can't, remember that the great unexplainable feeling that you don't belong here is a pull to the unimaginable.


The Far Country

Father Abraham
Do you remember when
You were called to a land
And didn’t know the way

‘Cause we are wandering
In a foreign land
We are children of the
Promise of the faith

And I long to find it
Can you feel it, too?
That the sun that’s shining
Is a shadow of the truth

This is a far country, a far country
Not my home

In the dark of the night
I can feel the shadows all around me
Cold shadows in the corners of my heart

But the heart of the fight
Is not in the flesh but in the spirit
And the spirit’s got me shaking in the dark

And I long to go there
I can feel the truth
I can hear the promise
Of the angels of the moon

This is a far country, a far country
Not my home

I can see in the strip malls and the phone calls
The flaming swords of Eden
In the fast cash and the news flash
And the horn blast of war
In the sin-fraught cities of the dying and the dead
Like steel-wrought graveyards where the wicked never rest
To the high and lonely mountain in the groaning wilderness
We ache for what is lost
As we wait for the holy God
Of Father Abraham

I was made to go there
Out of this far country
To my home, to my home

Andrew Peterson

A Fresh Look at Easter

Ive; been giving Easter a little more thought this year for some reason. I sensed the Lord say the other day that the Cross was to show us He loved us but the Resurrection was to show us that He could be loved. Nothing I could write can compare with this though. Hope you enjoy it.

http://andrew-peterson.com/journals.php?q=2&y=2007#2007-04-01

Service to God?

Now I have struggled with what it really means to serve God for a long, long time. I was raised to believe that my service was simply to go to church on Sunday. That's it. As I grew I began to think that it was more of a service to me and to others than it was to God. Not that serving others isn't pleasing to God if done in faith, but they wanted us to serve them by doing things that would benefit them and not necessarily God. Serve on this committee, clean this, do this, sing this. But what does it mean to serve God? Does God want us to be servants? Jesus clearly contradicts this by saying that we are no longer slaves but sons. What's the difference in the service of a slave and the service of a son? The difference to me seems to be the attitude of the father more than the attitude of the son. If the father thinks of the son as someone who will benefit him then the service of the son is no different than that of a slave. However if the father thinks of his son as someone who will benefit from being with him, learning from him, growing as a result of his love and becoming who the father dreamed he would be, then the son's service is a natural out pouring of who the father is making the son to be. So what does it mean to serve God? Could it be as simple as knowing who you are in Him and "being" who He created you to be?

Horse Theology

When I was growing up we lived in a small rural area of North Georgia. Being Southern Americans and living in the country I suppose we wanted to be farmers. This included owning a small Shetland pony. The pony's name was Little Bit. We didn't have a lot of land. As a matter of fact we rented the small house that we lived in. Therefore the pony's lot in life was to be tied to a tree out back of the house. One morning my sister went out to feed Little Bit only to find him bound to the tree by the rope. He had somehow gotten tangled in the rope to the point that not only could he not free himself but he had become wrapped so tightly in the rope that it blinded him in one eye and rubbed a whole in his front leg to the bone. My father went out and cut him loose and doctored him up. Although blind and wounded he survived. A few years later, in another rented house with less room, Little Bit ended up tied to the house. My dad knew that he wouldn't get tangled around the house. He didn't know that the house would burn down. Luckily someone came by and cut Little Bit's rope. He ran away from the burning house only to be found later pretty much unharmed. Again we moved to a house that had a little more land and for the first time Little Bit was put into a fence. The problem was that it was a small fence about 40 x 40 feet and it was electric. Little Bit lived in this small lot only to be continuously shocked by getting too close to the fence. After a couple of years we sold Little Bit. I remember clearly the day that the man who bought him came to get him. We took the fence completely down but we couldn't get the pony across the line where the fence had been. We pushed and pulled but Little Bit wouldn't budge. After great effort by about four grown men he was finally loaded onto the truck and I never saw him again.

Many years later, about 30, I was sitting in church when God told me that I was exactly like Little Bit. Now I know it was God because I hadn't even thought of the horse since I was a child. You see I was tied up to the legalistic mindset and it blinded me and wounded me to the freedom that was rightfully mine. God came by and cut me loose. Then I was bound to the house, the church-house, and I was almost burned to the point that I wanted to quit it all. Again God came by and set me free. I remain in a fence of religion but God has taken down the fence. I am at this point being drug across the line. I'm afraid to believe that I am free because of the shock of it.

Keep Pulling God, Not my will but Thine

Why Nimblewill's Grace- Part Two Grace

Grace, That oft sung about, rarely preached about, and never understood concept of God's acceptance of sinful man, in particular THIS sinful man. I fully understand that there may be those who may disagree with my definition but this is the conclusion that I have come to. In my 40+ years of getting to know our Father I have tried every conceivable technique to get Him to love me more but with every venture I felt He loved me less because my failure rate at doing what I thought I was supposed to do, or what I was told that I was supposed to do, was near 100%. UNTIL I started reading scripture. This is what I discovered:
Moses was a murderer.
Noah was a drunkard.
David was an adulteress.
Jesus lineage was filled with hoodlums and harlots. Tamar, Rahab,................
And Paul; Paul was on his way to do away with Christianity.
Still God used these men and women. In the New Testament I read, " While we were yet sinners Christ died for us;" that I am only able to love at all because He first loved me, and that He is love; agape. It is that love that constrains me. I become more like Him because of His Grace, not because I have become proficient at keeping a set of rules. I love because I am loved. I accept because I am accepted, I practice grace because I have received grace. At least that's His plan for me. Its his plan for you too. When Jesus comes to set up residence in us He's still living in a dirty stable. A place not fit for humans, much less a King.

So why Nimblewill's Grace? The One who breathes life into the humus, the decay of what was once alive, does so because that is what He does. Its called Grace.

Enjoy it.