FINAL CHAPTER!
Note: to anyone reading this, this is the last chapter. To read from the beginning, go to the first post. The chapters are in reverse order. Here we go....!
Chapter 8
Angie's Journal Entry
I have discovered that I am terrified of things I don't know. I've always prided myself on my ability to handle mystery and paradox, and anything mystic. But that's not the same as the unknown: mystery and paradox, image and symbol, are known to me, almost like a native language.
I don't know grace, and it terrifies me. I can't see love, and it frightens me. I can't see myself as accepted, and don't know who I am if I can be accepted.
I feel like I'm standing at the edge of a lighted room, a comfortable room, with soft pillows and warm lighting; a room I've lived in all my life. And now I stand at the edge, where it disappears into an impenetrable darkness.
One of my favorite poems contains the line, "There is in God, some say, a deep but dazzling darkness." That's the darkness that surrounds my little room, and I'm being called to step out into it.
Can I do it? Can I risk the unknown grace, the unseen love, the accepted me? I don't know. I feel as if I will disappear if I take that last step. But if I stay where I am, I have already disappeared. God grant me the weakness to fall into You, and not the strength to stay firm in myself.
________________________
To: Jason Slocum
From: Ryan Trent
CC: Pizza guys
Subject: Pizza and movie night change?
Hey everyone--it's getting to be the middle of the semester, and I doubt we'll have time this month to do our usual pizza night this month, with midterms coming up. So, I propose that we take a trip top Ruby's on the pier in Huntington Beach instead of the regular movie and pizza marathon. I think we'd want to leave here around 7, we'd be there by 8, and head home around 10. Sound good? Let me know by Thursday!
Ryan
_______________________
Despite the warm sprin sun, the wind blowing off the ocean was quite cold. The walk down the pier would be rather long, and I was glad I'd brought my sweatshirt. There were about ten of us sprinting down the wave-printed asphalt to the entrance of the pier. A swath of concrete steps led down to the sand; a few volleyball nets were set up, and there was an enthusiastic game going on at one of them. Seagulls hovered just off the sides of the pier, and the wave crests shone pink in the fading light.
You can see the diner at the end from the moment you step onto the pier, but it's always farther away than it seems. I was quietly glad for company on that long walk. The guys were laughing and joking, and several of them ran ahead of us, trying to scare the pigeons and seagulls.
I veered off to the side, and looked down. I could see the massive pillars supporting the pier. As I watched the ebb and flow of the waves, I could see the encrustations of mussels and barnacles that surrounded them. Here and there, a blaze of color could be seen, starfish that had attached themselves to the abundant shellfish on the columns.
I looked up, and saw that the group had gone on ahead of me. I trotted to catch up with them, and we were seated in the diner.
I was an old 1950's style diner, with big band music playing over the speakers. The menu mostly consisted of burgers, with a few health-conscious options thrown in.
We all ordered burgers, and a whole tray of assorted milkshakes. I'm fairly sure we raised more than our share of noise, but no-one seemed to mind too much.
I have to admit, I enjoyed it. I don't often go out with large groups--they loud, disorganized, and usually vulgar. But this was good--we were loud, but not raucus, a bit loose, but not chaotic, and though the whole thing seemed like a great joke, none of us was vulgar or rude.
I slipped out, putting a twenty on the table. "Hey, guys, I'm going to go look at the ocean for awhile. Let me know when you're ready to leave."
I walked out of the door and around the side of the octagonal building until it stood between me and the bright lights of the City.
Looking out to the heart of the ocean, no lights were visible, and I couldn't tell where the night sky left off and the sea began.
As I looked out into the darkness, my heart longed for something, something beyond sea and sky. I stepped up on the first rung of the protective rail, instinctively moving towards whatever it was that called ot me from the darkness. I looked up and saw a single star, floating over the waves. A stella maris, star of the sea, shining in the night.
I turned, and faced the lights of the City. It shone brightly, casting a warm glow into the sky. It stood there, always changing, but an image of an eternal City.
I almost jumped over into the waves. I wanted to. The waves sounded soothing, rocking the whole world to sleep. The darkness promised rest, cessation of sorrow, and assured me that no-one would ever disrupt that sleep.
But then the Stella Maris twinkled bove, and I knew. No matter if I cast myself into the heart of darkness, I would never be alone. The star would shine, and the Spirit would move over the waters.
A bright spear of light stabbed out into the darkness, and I heard Ryan and Stephan calling out to me, as they prepared to go back to the campus.
I looked back out at the sparkling star, then I heard the angel's song. It spoke of conflict and battle, pain and wounding, of light, and hope, and a sword piercing the heart. No rest, no solitude.
I turned, following the song, and walked back towards the City of God.
Chapter 8
Angie's Journal Entry
I have discovered that I am terrified of things I don't know. I've always prided myself on my ability to handle mystery and paradox, and anything mystic. But that's not the same as the unknown: mystery and paradox, image and symbol, are known to me, almost like a native language.
I don't know grace, and it terrifies me. I can't see love, and it frightens me. I can't see myself as accepted, and don't know who I am if I can be accepted.
I feel like I'm standing at the edge of a lighted room, a comfortable room, with soft pillows and warm lighting; a room I've lived in all my life. And now I stand at the edge, where it disappears into an impenetrable darkness.
One of my favorite poems contains the line, "There is in God, some say, a deep but dazzling darkness." That's the darkness that surrounds my little room, and I'm being called to step out into it.
Can I do it? Can I risk the unknown grace, the unseen love, the accepted me? I don't know. I feel as if I will disappear if I take that last step. But if I stay where I am, I have already disappeared. God grant me the weakness to fall into You, and not the strength to stay firm in myself.
________________________
To: Jason Slocum
From: Ryan Trent
CC: Pizza guys
Subject: Pizza and movie night change?
Hey everyone--it's getting to be the middle of the semester, and I doubt we'll have time this month to do our usual pizza night this month, with midterms coming up. So, I propose that we take a trip top Ruby's on the pier in Huntington Beach instead of the regular movie and pizza marathon. I think we'd want to leave here around 7, we'd be there by 8, and head home around 10. Sound good? Let me know by Thursday!
Ryan
_______________________
Despite the warm sprin sun, the wind blowing off the ocean was quite cold. The walk down the pier would be rather long, and I was glad I'd brought my sweatshirt. There were about ten of us sprinting down the wave-printed asphalt to the entrance of the pier. A swath of concrete steps led down to the sand; a few volleyball nets were set up, and there was an enthusiastic game going on at one of them. Seagulls hovered just off the sides of the pier, and the wave crests shone pink in the fading light.
You can see the diner at the end from the moment you step onto the pier, but it's always farther away than it seems. I was quietly glad for company on that long walk. The guys were laughing and joking, and several of them ran ahead of us, trying to scare the pigeons and seagulls.
I veered off to the side, and looked down. I could see the massive pillars supporting the pier. As I watched the ebb and flow of the waves, I could see the encrustations of mussels and barnacles that surrounded them. Here and there, a blaze of color could be seen, starfish that had attached themselves to the abundant shellfish on the columns.
I looked up, and saw that the group had gone on ahead of me. I trotted to catch up with them, and we were seated in the diner.
I was an old 1950's style diner, with big band music playing over the speakers. The menu mostly consisted of burgers, with a few health-conscious options thrown in.
We all ordered burgers, and a whole tray of assorted milkshakes. I'm fairly sure we raised more than our share of noise, but no-one seemed to mind too much.
I have to admit, I enjoyed it. I don't often go out with large groups--they loud, disorganized, and usually vulgar. But this was good--we were loud, but not raucus, a bit loose, but not chaotic, and though the whole thing seemed like a great joke, none of us was vulgar or rude.
I slipped out, putting a twenty on the table. "Hey, guys, I'm going to go look at the ocean for awhile. Let me know when you're ready to leave."
I walked out of the door and around the side of the octagonal building until it stood between me and the bright lights of the City.
Looking out to the heart of the ocean, no lights were visible, and I couldn't tell where the night sky left off and the sea began.
As I looked out into the darkness, my heart longed for something, something beyond sea and sky. I stepped up on the first rung of the protective rail, instinctively moving towards whatever it was that called ot me from the darkness. I looked up and saw a single star, floating over the waves. A stella maris, star of the sea, shining in the night.
I turned, and faced the lights of the City. It shone brightly, casting a warm glow into the sky. It stood there, always changing, but an image of an eternal City.
I almost jumped over into the waves. I wanted to. The waves sounded soothing, rocking the whole world to sleep. The darkness promised rest, cessation of sorrow, and assured me that no-one would ever disrupt that sleep.
But then the Stella Maris twinkled bove, and I knew. No matter if I cast myself into the heart of darkness, I would never be alone. The star would shine, and the Spirit would move over the waters.
A bright spear of light stabbed out into the darkness, and I heard Ryan and Stephan calling out to me, as they prepared to go back to the campus.
I looked back out at the sparkling star, then I heard the angel's song. It spoke of conflict and battle, pain and wounding, of light, and hope, and a sword piercing the heart. No rest, no solitude.
I turned, following the song, and walked back towards the City of God.
THE END
posted by Joi | 8:54 PM
2 Comments:
I found this through the forums of NaNoWriMo.
I've read the whole thing, and I'm really impressed. It's made me think, not given me answers exactly, but made me ask some questions and consider different views.
~ET
Hey, thanks for the comment on my post yesterday at SCL. It's great having readers add to the conversation.
It's funny how everyone is frustrated with the photographer during the trip, and then afterwards he/she becomes the most popular in the group.
Know that my blog is a safe place to talk about life's more trivial matters. That's what we do best over there. Everyone needs a break from the serious, right? Keep the comments coming!
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