The Fangs of Dang and Me

The children and I have been going through the Wingfeather Saga (Andrew Peterson) this summer, and I've bene enjoying it (possibly) even more than the kids. We are into the third book now, and there are pieces that strike me in ways similar to passages from the Chronicles of Narnia.

One that we came across recently is this: "Gnag bends things for breaking, and the Maker makes a flourish! Evil digs a pit, and the Maker makes a well! It is his way."

Glory.

It takes me back to the words of Joseph in Genesis 50: "As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today." And also other passages.

The Romans 7 struggle fleshed out in Artham brought me to tears, and I was reminded in a fresh way of the boundless, relentless, pursuing grace of God...and of our (my) brokenness. This was also described in a vivid way: "Gnag has learned to change people. He's learned to take the essence of a snake and meld it with a man or woman to create something horrible. That's why there are Fangs."

And Fangs, we remember from Book 1, are exactly like people. They walk about and look exactly like us...except for their green scales, lizard-like snouts, long venomous fangs, etc. And the people were quite free...as long as they were doing exactly what the Fangs (and Gnag) required. And there was nothing to fear...except the cruel Fangs and the constant threat of torture and death...

So I wonder at the way WE were originally created...before we were melded with the snake and our hearts shriveled within us.

I marvel at the pit inside me that has been made a well. I lament that my inner Peet can still sometimes overpower and silence my inner Artham. I cringe at the way I sometimes see only glimmers of who I was created to be peeking out from behind the shadow of the Fang I can choose to become instead. And I long for the day that freedom will be complete--that although I'm freed from the power of Gnag over me and no longer have to serve him, I'm not yet rid of his presence.

One day I will be. Thanks be to the Maker.