A Marriage and a Mirror

Published on July 19, 2016July 19, 2016 by Marilyn9 Comments

This past Friday, my husband and I celebrated our 32nd anniversary.

Along with our anniversary, we celebrated a milestone – we met our first grandchild. There was something deeply moving about holding this small bundle of baby, knowing that he has no idea how beloved he already is. He is born to parents that wanted him, planned for him, and love him deeply. He has come into the world to an extended family of uncles and aunts; grandparents and great grandparents; cousins and friends. With him comes a new identity for us – we will be Pop Pop and GiGi for the next generation.

Our wedding was in Chicago, and our grandson was born in Chicago. So along with the joy of meeting him, we went back to the campus of North Park college, the site of our celebration so many years ago. The gazebo that framed our wedding party is gone, vandalized by students who obviously didn’t know the significance of its pristine white frame to so many couples. But the earth below it has not moved and the grass is as green as it was on the day of our wedding. We searched for the statue of a woman that my husband remembered and found her, guardian of many secrets and the only campus witness to our wedding vows.

The usual clichés come to mind as I think about it.

Where did the time go?

We were so young when we got married – just babies really.

How could it be that we are old enough to have a grandson?

How did it get so late, so soon?

But in truth, while some years zipped by like days of summer, full of grace and light, others were slow and hard, with winter clouds hanging low. It has only been recently that I wanted to stop time, put it on pause for a while so that I can catch my breath. Moments have become precious; Saturday mornings curled up with coffee and a book are a gift from the heavens. Summer evening dinners on a porch, with warm breezes blowing are treasured times.

Marriage and faith — both are mysteries. Unexplainable, and yet — we try so hard to explain them. They both take work, they both take effort, they both bring unbelievable joy and earth-shattering doubt. They both begin as babies, but if either are going to survive, they must grow into adulthood.

Two years ago, I wrote a piece about marriage. I looked back at it today, realizing that the words I wrote are as true today as they were when I first wrote them.

*****

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone is the first book of the wildly successful Harry Potter series. Chapter 12 in the book is called “The Mirror of Erised.” The “Mirror of Erised” is an ornate, magnificent mirror hidden away in an unused classroom. It’s as tall as the ceiling and has claw feet. But this is more than a beautiful mirror — the person who looks in the mirror sees the “deepest, most desperate desire of [their] heart.” So when Harry, an orphan cared for by a dreadful aunt and uncle who hate him, looks in the mirror he sees his entire extended family waving at him, loving him, letting him know he belongs. His dead parents smile back at him from the mirror, large as life. And when his friend Ron, just one more boy in a huge family with nothing that stands out about him other than his flaming red hair, looks in the mirror he sees himself as head of the Quidditch team and head of the house.

You see that which you long for most of all.

And for most of us our wedding days are a bit like that. The Mirror or Erised is held in front of each couple and we look inside and we see untainted love that lasts through the ages. We see bodies that will never grow old and a love that will never die. We see joy and hope, we see plenty and laughter. While we may say the vows “for better, for worse, for rich, for poor, for sick, for health….” we don’t see those things in the Mirror of Erised.

The Mirror shows us that which we want more than anything – eternal love and happiness.

And then the guests go home, the cake in the top of the freezer gets freezer burn, the money from the beautiful cards given on that wedding day runs out. We want to stand in front of the mirror again, just to get a glimpse of that beauty, that glory, that hope.

But more stuff happens – kids come along and with them nightmare tantrums and learning disabilities, weight is gained and lost, houses come and go, unemployment rears its ugly head, family and friends die. Love is tested morning and night. Sometimes there is betrayal or wounds that are so deep you think you’ll never heal; other times it’s just life – and marriage has grown oh so old. All the while we remember that mirror in the unused classroom – but it just sits there.

In the Harry Potter book as Harry goes for the third night to see the mirror, he finds Dumbledore sitting off in the shadows. Dumbledore talks to Harry about the mirror and exposes it for what it is “….this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.” Harry is sobered as he heads back to his dormitory room.

Last Friday was my 32nd wedding anniversary. 32 years of so much good and so much hard that it defies description. And on our wedding day, we like so many couples before us, looked into the Mirror of Erised. And we loved what we saw. We wanted to stay in front of that mirror forever — a cute, young couple with adventure on our hearts and fire in our souls. It would never end. It couldn’t as long as we had the Mirror with us.

But like all couples, the mirror was wisely hidden away. In its place was a real mirror – a mirror that reflected back a couple that would grow and age, that would sometimes hate what they saw looking back at them, but keep on going anyway, keep on loving, keep on living, never giving up.

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that….” says Dumbledore. Some of our dreams were realized, others were lost, but we have learned to live, really live. While the Mirror of Erised reflected wishful thinking, our real mirror reflects a brave marriage forged on hope, faith, and grace that could only come from One far greater than us.

And today I proclaim again the truth of a life of commitment. I proclaim the truth that marriage is really very little about love and very much about something bigger. Today I speak against our Hollywood Mirror of Erised notions of magic and romance; I stand against a culture of quick satisfaction and selfish sex. I speak up for an unpopular view that marriage is so much more than two people falling in love.

For in 32 years never have I embarked on anything so costly and so worthwhile as marriage. Never have I faced the awful in myself so closely and so viciously, never have I needed the grace of God more profoundly. We do not have a Mirror of Erised marriage – We have a marriage born on idealism and hope, weathered by storms, challenged by crisis, tempered by love, sealed by God above.

And so I wish another Happy Anniversary to the man I said “I do” to. I’d do it again this side of the mirror.

Harry Potter as TCK Lit

Published on April 14, 2016 by Marilyn14 Comments

In July of 2014, two of my kids challenged me to read the entire Harry Potter series. Although we were first in line to get the books through the years and my children dressed up for the movies, hitting the midnight opening shows more than once, I had (shamefully) not read them.

So I took the challenge, and six months later on New Year’s Day I read the last sentence “All was well” and, realizing I had finished, I burst into tears. I had fallen in love with Harry Potter and all the people in his world.

It wasn’t until later that I realized how much Harry Potter’s world resembled the world of the third culture kid. Harry Potter lived between, learning to negotiate the Muggle world, even as his life in the wizard world was not perfect. Harry Potter’s best friends were like TCK best friends, who stick with you through the years, even though you go through times of not speaking or hating each other. Harry Potter knew he was ‘other’ when he was with his relatives, the ghastly Dursley family. The first sentence in the book is a perfect description of this Muggle family: “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.”

Through all seven books, Harry’s adventures are relatable to the kid who has lived on three continents and knows several different languages. He even speaks Parseltongue, making him a bilingual hero.

But it was this paragraph that convinced me that Harry Potter was a third culture kid: “Harry kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through his hair as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away, shrinking rapidly into a patchwork of dark greens and blacks, and every thought of the Ministry hearing was swept from his mind as though the rush of air had blown it out of his head. He felt as though his heart was going to explode with pleasure; he was flying again, flying away from Privet Drive as he’d been fantasising about all summer, he was going home… for a few glorious moments, all his problems seemed to recede to nothing, insignificant in the vast, starry sky.” [Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, pp 54-56.]

So call me crazy, but this series will definitely be in my resource list for TCK lit. For the thousandth time, I thank JK Rowling for regifting the gift of imagination.

I’ve included some of my favorite quotes in today’s post. Enjoy, and, if you’re a Harry Potter fan, feel free to add your own.

On Adventure:

Adventure HP quote

On Dreams:

HP Quote version 2

On being a stranger in our passport countries:

Snape quote

On Being Yourself:

Luna Lovegood 2

On third culture kid connections:

hearts beat as one

Identity and the Golden Snitch

Published on March 3, 2015March 3, 2015 by Marilyn4 Comments

It all starts with the game of Quidditch.

Quidditch is a game played throughout the Harry Potter series. It’s popularity in the wizarding world is like the popularity of football (soccer to Americans) in the real world. The game is played on broomsticks and the object is to get a ball through a goal post. But there’s an additional piece to the game that makes the difference between winning and losing.

There is a small golden ball that whizzes around the air, almost invisible it goes so fast. Each team has a “Seeker” and it is the seeker’s job to always be on the lookout for the snitch and to catch it. No matter how many goals the other team gets, if the opposite team catches the snitch then they immediately get 150 points. A game is generally won or lost based on who gets the snitch.

But the snitch is elusive. It flutters here and there, one minute visible, the next out of sight. One minute within your grasp, the next minute far beyond your reach.

In some ways this snitch is like the identity of those who live between worlds. One minute our identity is secure and we hold it tight. We walk confidently, knowing who we are and what we’re about. The next minute we are searching madly, insecure in our current reality, our identity just out of reach. We wonder why, like the snitch, it suddenly disappears. One day I have caught up with my identity and feel like a winner. The next day it has fluttered away and I am madly chasing it on my broomstick, desperate to grab it and hold on to it.

In the Harry Potter books, there are times when our hero, Harry, catches the snitch. He emerges the winner and he basks in the glory of success, of knowing he did what he set out to do in the game. Other times he doesn’t catch the snitch, something blocks him and his team loses.

Our true identity needs to be in something far more stable than the snitch. Far more stable than that fluttering, golden ball that is sometime visible and attainable and other times completely out of sight, out of our grasp.

Can living between worlds be a crucial part of us without fully defining us?

After living in the United States for seven years we moved to Phoenix, Arizona. I remember getting off the plane in the middle of July. It was 122 degrees outside. I took one step outside and suddenly I felt like I would no longer have to fight to catch the identity snitch. It was like a massive weight fell off and I could walk freely. I’m not sure what it was, but after seven long years, my culture shock and the massive disconnect I felt living in the United States was no longer a backpack full of baggage. Instead it was just part of the process.

Three years into my time in Arizona I was talking to someone who had been a friend since I had arrived. She found out that I had grown up in Pakistan and then lived and raised a family in Pakistan and Egypt. “I never knew that!” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I cannot tell you how proud I was that she had known me for three years and I hadn’t immediately introduced myself as someone who lived between worlds. It felt like a giant step forward. I also loved that she was interested, that she wanted to know, that we could have a conversation without me feeling like an alien organism.

In the book Between Worlds, I devote an entire section to essays on identity. In an essay called “Chameleon” I wrote this:

“Any third culture kid who is living effectively in her passport country has a moment of truth when she realizes it’s okay to live here; it’s okay to adjust; it’s okay, even if she never feels fully at home, to feel a level of comfort in who she is in her passport country. To adapt doesn’t mean settling for second best. To adapt is to use the gifts she developed through her childhood in order to transcend cultures and to find her niche in both worlds.”*

Some days I go backwards, and I get on that broomstick and try to catch that snitch. I end up exhausted and defeated. I’m brought back into healthy reality when I admit my longing to be back in a place where I like myself better, where I feel more at home, and then move forward remembering again that “Identity is not a place I live at, but a Person I live in.”

What about you? How has identity eluded you like the snitch?

On Marriage and the Mirror of Erised

Published on July 15, 2014 by Marilyn24 Comments

You see that which you long for most of all.

Today is my 30th anniversary – 30 years sharing my life, my heart, my bed with my husband. 30 years of so much good and so much hard that it defies description. And on our wedding day, we like so many couples before us, looked into the Mirror of Erised. And we loved what we saw. We wanted to stay in front of that mirror forever — a cute, young couple with adventure on our hearts and fire in our souls. It would never end. It couldn’t as long as we had the Mirror with us.

For in 30 years never have I embarked on anything so costly and so worthwhile as marriage. Never have I faced the awful in myself so closely and so viciously, never have I needed the grace of God more profoundly. We do not have a Mirror of Erised marriage – We have a marriage born on idealism and hope, weathered by storms, challenged by crisis, tempered by love, sealed by God above.

Today I wish a Happy Anniversary to the man I said “I do” to. I’d do it again this side of the mirror.

If you were looking into the Mirror of Erised for your marriage or your life, what would it show? It’s a very personal question – but a good one to ask ourselves.

God Doesn’t Like Harry Potter…He LOVES Him!

Published on July 14, 2011July 14, 2011 by Marilyn7 Comments

Harry Potter fever has hit our home. Tonight begins the journey to the end as the midnight showing of “The Deathly Hallows” part 2 opens. The theater across the street from the Boston Commons will be the venue, lines outside the door forming early, ensuring premium seats for those closest to the entrance.

At one time in Christian circles there was a question of the wisdom of allowing children to read Harry Potter. We were never a part of the discussion so perhaps there still is controversy of which I am completely unaware. But because of this we had a saying in our family coined by my husband “God doesn’t like Harry Potter….He loves him!“. While offensive to some, it spelled out our sentiments of a good story, for if there is one thing the Gardners love, whether truth or fiction but preferably a mixture of both, it is a good story.

Stories are compelling to us as humans. We see ourselves in the characters of stories. We see the same conflicts with which we struggle worked through, sometimes in healthy ways and other times in ways we would hesitate to emulate. We cry with our characters when they die or get hurt, and we rejoice when they find love and redemption. At night as our heads rest on soft pillows we read books taking us to other worlds and often feel like we are going to bed with our friends. We become a part of the story.

The CNN Belief Blog published a piece called “My take: Why we’re drawn to Harry Potter’s theology”. The author, Danielle Elizabeth Tumminio, has written a book called “God and Harry at Yale; Faith and Fiction in the Classroom” and has studied this intensively. She has come to the conclusion that it’s about seeking. Fans who read Harry Potter, she says, are introduced to questions of ultimate meaning. How to respond to evil, is it possible to keep a relationship beyond the grave, most important – is it worth believing in God without evidence of his power to transform? Beyond analyzing, the author speaks to what she found compelling as she read through the series and challenges readers to do the same.

As the film opens and fans lose themselves in the story, sobbing at the end because there will not be another, it is a gift to know that though Harry Potter is ending, as long as the earth is inhabited by humans there will be stories. Stories that detail the human condition and bring about greater understanding. Stories that voice longing, love, seeking and redemption, because God loves a good story.