I got Out of Darkness Rising by Gillian Bronte Adams for Christmas. I had been wanting to read it for ages, and I was not disappointed by it, except maybe that is was so thin. I wanted it to last longer.

Darkness reigns unchallenged.

For the villagers on the accursed Island, life has only one meaning - death. Bound to the Island by the curse, the villagers suffer beneath the iron claw of the Serpent, daily breathing the poison of his breath and dying to appease his insatiable appetite.

When Marya’s parents are slain by the serpent for their belief in a legendary king, she becomes an outcast. Struggling to survive and avoid the vengeance of the Tribunal, Marya is torn between legend and the harsh reality of the Island. Yet when a forgotten promise springs to life, she cannot help wondering if the old stories might in fact be true. And if they are, will the promise prove stronger than the curse? 

The back cover actually gives away a bit more of the story than I would like, but hopefully you will have forgotten it by the time you read this book. If you don't you will still be able to enjoy it immensely. The first sentence is rather good too. As are the cool dragon/serpent pictures inside. (which I did not take photos of...)

This story is an allegory of redemption. Out of Darkness Rising is a short read, sad, and hopeful and beautiful, the writing resounds with one of the world greatest truths. But it does not forget the story or plot. The characters are fairly relatable, although because of the shortness you only get to know them so much. The story, a retelling of the greatest rescue, is epic. But I must again say it felt over too soon, I wish it was longer. Another point to it would be that some of the writing actually reminded me a little of C.S. Lewis' writing. 

And the cover is seriously cool too, especially since it is a scene in the story, and because it just is. I do like it when it actually happens in the book though. And as it suggests, there are swords and a dragon in the book.

Have you read any of Gillian Bronte Adams' books?

She has only published two, but there are more coming!

I am currently reading Unlikely Hero:The Road to Extraordinary by Duncan Robinson. It is a great book that I would definitely recommend. The thoughts in this post are my words but the idea was from that book.

And the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed.  And Moses said, “I will turn aside to see this great sight, why the bush is not burned.”  When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” ~ Exodus 3:2-4

The question is this: what was so special about that bush, why did it not burn? The answer is nothing. There was nothing special about that ordinary little bush, nothing except for the fact that God chose it.

Often we seem to think we have to be someone special for God to use us for his glory and his kingdom. The bush did not play a long part in God's plan for rescuing the people of Israel. But it played a very important one. Maybe you are just like that little bush. A perfectly ordinary person, but when chosen by God you could be the start of something truly extraordinary.

Sometimes God call us to step out of our comfort zone. I can't imagine a bush enjoying being burned, at least not really burning, that would kill it. This bush did not get consumed though. We probably don't have to face anything as drastic as facing something that will (as far as we know) kill us. But sometimes we need to say yes to God and be that ordinary little bush that he can work through to do something truly extraordinary.

One day a man was given a clay jar into his care. At first he kept it with all his other jars on one side of the room. But this jar was different to all the rest. Now this man lived in the darkness, and hated all light. This particular clay jar emitted a faint glow that none of his others did. For a while he bore with the unnatural presence, keeping his back to the jar and moving it to a shelf in the darkest corner he could find, hiding it behind other jars. But the light did not flicker, and it had a presence he could feel all the time. Hate for the light of the clay jar grew in him until he decided he had to put it out. 

One candle stood in a corner. It looked silently out over the room; it could not see to the rooms extent, the candle did not even know if there were other edges. Hundreds of thousands of candles stood in the shadowy room.  A few of the candles had faint lights on them, some sputtered, but most were dark. In one place nearby, a group of lighted candles stood together right next to each other. Each little flame melded together to create one roaring tower of light that could be seen by many more candles. The group of candles dispersed, each leaving with more fire atop it than it arrived with. They went out and mingled with the unlit candles. 

From the corner the candle watched, many of the dark candles leaned towards a flaming candle as he passed them. The flaming candle stopped in amongst a huddle of dark ones, as he left the wick atop one he had just spoke with sputtered into life, a faint glow, but still a glow. 

Sadly some of the lighted candles walked about with their arms shielding their light as if they were afraid it would be blown out if someone else saw it. Others hid their light, ashamed of the shadows it seemed to cause, though really all it did was show the truth. Still others selfishly kept their light hidden so only they could use it to guide their path. Candles around these ones never had any idea they were near lighted ones. 

The candle in the corner stopped watching the others as she heard a strange sound. Following it she came to a small group of candles. Their wicks were faintly lighted or sputtering. With a smile she walked into the midst of them. They gathered round and gazed at her light. As the little group came together their wicks touched and a great tower of light shot up. They soon parted, but each candle now held their heads high, showing their light to anyone watching. 

The candle from the corner kept on moving through the darkness. At times she saw one of the candles beside her start to sputter, other times she had long passed on before her light lit theirs. Most of the time she only warmed their wax, but that prepared them for when another lighted one passed their way then they too burst into flame. 

One candle had time only to light one other before he melted away, but that other burned bright. The one candle that the candle of short time lit went on to light many others, and warm or bring to sparks many more. When others lights flared up, they too lit still more.

In one place, too many candles away for our corner candle to see, a bright burning candle refused to go out. Other candles entrenched in their darkness noticed his flame and for fear of it catching, took him away. Still his light shone. So they bent him, they battered his light. They failed their mission. The battering of his light only caused sparks to fly; the distances some of them went were incredible. Finally the dark ones smashed him to pieces until he was no more, but his light had already given many others light of their own.

One lighted candle can make a difference, yet each does in different ways. Let your light shine. Give the Light time to catch, light up the darkness.

Yes it is only Autumn, technically, but yesterday Winter pushed her away and arrived in a gale, weather (yes that is deliberate) to stay or not I don't know, I suspect Autumn will return for a while though, before winter truly takes hold. The day before we had a lot of rain but only yesterday did we get the winter air... I couldn't really get a photo of the wind or Winter so here is my best with words and some photos of the rain and hail the day before. 

This is not really a poem, but neither is it quite normal prose either.... but hopefully it will paint a picture with words for you anyway.

Winter Came Today

In a wall of rushing wind winter came in, no slow creeping cold, but with full force he charged in to claim victory. Autumn fled. Winter roared; sounding like the pounding of a great waterfall. He came howling through the leaves, thrashing at the world, beating it to pieces, like a waterfall beating at the rocks it falls upon, wearing them away. Trees tossed their heads branches flying, manes of battle chargers, standing against the onslaught. 

Grass bends, ripples, as though rank upon rank of light footed, invisible, soldiers pass over it. Winter tugs at the chargers manes, bits of hair tear loose, branches come crashing to the ground. Leaves and strips of bark fly through the air, shrapnel. 

Like plumes of smoke, or gas, clouds scud across the troposphere. Grey and green tinged they fly, obscuring the sun for a moment. Light flickers, a morse code, sun flashing out from the clouds and being hidden again. Bright, bringing a little warmth, off, on again, off longer this time, cold settles, clouds part, they come together. Long, long short, short long, dazzling light, then obscured by grey. 

Trees sway as Winter stretched out his long fingers, groping at the trunks until they bend, and bend. They straighten trying to stand, then bend towards the ground, hunching like old, crooked backs. Bark and leaves are stripped away leaving trees standing bare and naked to face the tempest. The cold of winter returns with the clouds.

The great tall ones reach out their arms as if to hold back Winter, but instead it rushes, past and through, an insubstantial, uncatchable thing. The cold sets in, biting wind. It rasps through trees, around houses, down throats, so cold it makes me catch at my breath, lest it take that too. I stumble as Winter hits.

One of the big themes of The Lord of the rings is “Victory of the Small over the Mighty”.  It is seen in this quote, said by Elrond in The Fellowship of the Ring;

“Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: Small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.”

The four hobbits; Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin though small, each in their own way they turn the wheels of the world. They all show the theme, “Victory of the Small over the Mighty”.

Frodo showed this theme in his defeating of Sauron. His small and seemingly insignificance helped him slip under the guard of the Dark Lord. This brought about the whole climax of the tale. It nearly seems impossible for one of so little power to defeat him, yet that is exactly what happens. Frodo also shows the theme again in the final defeat of Saruman. In the end Saruman is robbed of his triumph through Frodo’s pity.

Sam too shows how small people can have great influence on the way things turn out. Without Sam, Frodo would never have reached Mordor alive let alone the top of Mount Doom. Some people argue that the humble gardener Samwise Gamgee is the real hero. He makes the mighty Shelob flee and rescues his master from the clutches of the orcs, his small hands turning the wheels of the world just as Frodo did.

Pippin and Merry seem to be two small unimportant creatures but they succeed in rousing the Ents. Then the Ents go on to destroy Isengard; bringing about the beginning of Saruman’s downfall, and the destruction of great armies of orcs. Merry made it possible for Éowyn to kill the Witch-king of Angmar during the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, by stabbing him behind his unseen knee. Then in the Battle of the Morannon, Pippin kills a troll king or at least some very large important one.

These four small hobbits then return home, no hobbit there realizes just how much they have done. Yet without the acts of these hobbits Middle Earth would be a different place and the darkness may have overcome all, but it didn’t the small people had victory over the mighty.

This Is only an allegory and only meant to represent and only written by me. I have never heard of a allegory that makes complete sense or works in every way. I like them as long as I don't analyse them very hard. I came up with the idea a few Sundays ago, but I only typed it all out today. So here it is......

Imagine. Everyone is falling, falling down a big, seemingly bottomless hole. Or maybe not falling but floating down. There is a rope hanging there near but a lot of people can’t see it because it is too dark down the hole. Some people know they are falling.  Some see the rope but their arms are full of other possessions that they will not give up.  Others, despite the obvious refuse to believe that they are falling. They trick themselves.

 Sometimes if one of those holding tight to their possessions, hits into the wall or an out cropping rock they lose their possessions. Then they may reach out and take hold of the rope but others will still ignore it. Some people spend the whole time trying to reach the diamonds that can be seen sparkling from the sides of the hole. Sometimes they do get hold of them. They smile and laugh at those ‘foolish ones’ who are holding onto what looks to them like a dirty, frayed, and tattered rope that is full of splinters.

I imagined the rope a bit fatter...
but I didn't have a fatter one.

The people who stay holding on the rope slip a bit at times. They will come across rope that is rough in some places. Holding on can be hard, especially when others can be seen who hold sparkling diamonds and other things. Letting go would be so easy.

But

All those who do not hold onto the rope will surely hit the bottom and be destroyed. 

1 Timothy 6: 17-19
As for the rich in this present age, charge them not to be haughty, nor to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but on God, who richly provides us with everything to enjoy. They are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share, thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.