Godric, by Frederich Buechner (one of my favorite all time authors), is a novel told from the point of view of a 12th century Catholic Saint. Which is about all I can tell you about it, since I've yet to actually read it all the way through. Well, that, and I think it's safe to assume it really is a great book, since it was nominated for the Pulitzer. I tried reading it many years back, but it was so rich and real and painfully alive that it made my head hurt and my heart ache in ways that were entirely too uncomfortable to keep on reading.
But every once in awhile, when I find myself grieving big and little losses alike, I usually end up searching out quotes from this little "gem of a novel" and inhaling them like the amazing (SO salty, SO crunchy) tortilla chips "hidden" on the top of my fridge. Here are a few (quotes, not chips, that is:), just to give you an idea...
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"Remember me not for the ill I've done but for the good I've dreamed."
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"When friends speak overmuch of times gone by, often it's because they sense their present time is turning them from friends to strangers. Long before the moment came to say goodbye, I think, we said goodbye in other words and ways and silences. Then when the moment came for it at last, we didn't say it as should be said by friends. So now at last, dear Mouse, with many, many years between: goodbye."
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"He also said we should carve in the year and place where I was born, but I said no. As a man dies many times before he's dead, so does he wend from birth to birth until, by grace, he comes alive at last."
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"That's five friends, one each for Jesu's wounds, and Godric bears their mark still on what's left of him as in their time they all bore his on them. What's friendship, when all's done, but the giving and taking of wounds?"
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The secret that we share I cannot tell in full. But this much I will tell. What's lost is nothing to what's found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup."
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That last one is my favorite quote ever - and from a book I've never read. I think it deserves another try, don't you? Kind of like skipping the chips from the top of the fridge and instead taking the time to cook up and savor a really satisfying meal, even if parts of it take a long time to chew, even if you have to eat all your vegetables to get to the dessert at the end.
So here's to Godric, my hero I have yet to meet, and to Frederich Buechner, a remarkable story-teller. And to good stories, that come in and reach into our hearts through the side door and teach us about what's true, all the while keeping us company and reminding us that we're never entirely alone. Jesus told stories, after all. All the time, to anyone willing to listen. He tells them still. And like Frederich Buechner did in the character of Godric, so does Jesus in us. He keeps telling us our story, unfolding it page by page. Sometimes it's just like Godric, way too painful and awkward and real to want to keep on reading. We try to put it down and head for the bag of chips, instead. But God, in his merciful, mind boggling sovereignty keeps reminding us that it's there - a story He's committed to finishing, for our good and His glory. And it's a good one. One, that on it's final page, will be able to somehow say with a sincere heart, "What's lost is nothing to what's found. And the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup."
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