"Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the gates." Prov. 31:30-31 (ESV)
"She kept her hands very still, wondering at them. They had been so busy with one thing and another in the world, continually shaping something. What many objects had rested against those palms--chair-backs, cups, tennis rackets, the hands of her friends, birds, books, bag-handles, umbrellas, clothes, bedclothes, door-handles, ropes, straps, knives and forks, bowls, pictures, shoes, cushions--oh, everything! and always she had had some purpose, her hands had been doing something, making something that had never been before--not just so. They were always advancing on the void of the future, shaping her future. . . . It was no doubt a thing to wonder at, the significant power of man's hands." Charles Williams, The Greater Trumps, p. 223-224.
I've been reading the novels of Charles Williams this spring. He was a friend of C.S. Lewis and a major influence on some of Lewis' work, especially That Hideous Strength. I was really struck last night by the image of the day-to-day power of our hands to create new situations and arrangements. It reminded me of Adam and Eve's work of naming the animals and tending and extending the garden, subduing the rebellious powers of the earth. Tolkien described us as subcreators in our ability to create new worlds of imagination, story and art. I think Williams catches that vision here and identifies it in the everyday.
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9 comments:
so, are you going to take up gardening now? plant a couple of rosebushes next to your parking space behind your apartment? this quote (along with the verse) reminds me of something that was read in Christie Ann's wedding. While she and Brian were holding hands at the altar, the pastor read a poem (I think) about how they should consider the hands they were holding at that moment, and the different roles they would play throughout their married life. It was special. I could see how that scripture could be read with that poem in a wedding someday. And maybe I'm the last person to think about this, but when I first wrote "altar," i spelled it "alter" and it struck me that we're altered at the altar, and I think that's neat. whatever.
For a second there, I thought you'd met the love of your life. But C.S. Lewis won't do it there, so I guess I'll keep hoping and praying for the special lady to head your way, if she hasn't allready. In the meantime, enjoy your singlehood.
Glad to see you're blogging more regularly now. I really enjoy it.
this was SO yesterday.
it's really really fun to pick on you for not blogging more...even though you blog very regularly
Oh, where... is dear Everett?
Oh, where... is dear Everett?
Oh where oh where oh where oh where oh wheeeeeeeeerrrrrrrreeee.... is dear Everett?
(sung to the tune of "The Hairbrush Song")
Everett, though I am a poet, I am not the anonymous one on this page. However, I would also like to know where you are and why you haven't blogged for a couple of days. YOU ARE MISSED!!!
Oh Everett, oh Everett. Where for art thou, Everett? Deny thy videos and post to your blog!
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn to comment, and I'll no longer be anonymous!
We swears to comment to the master of the precious.
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