I was just watching a few minutes of the Chronicles of Narnia in the sky high above the states as we soar toward Detroit and home. The scene that intrigued me was where Lucy entered Tumnus little house for tea. A little exchange takes place about winter, two very different views emerge, one sees what can be, what should be. One sees what is, the way things are. Haiti is a land steeped in a cold relentless winter. While the exterior of the land is hot...and I do mean HOT, the climate for the body is frigid. A cold curse of evil hangs everywhere. Broken down concrete structures, unfinished dreams scatter every neighborhood. You can't seem to find anything finished. And when it is it bears the mark of terrible imperfections. The landscape is wracked with erosion, barrenness is everywhere, pockmarked with litter. Everywhere you turn you see things spent, and spent again. It is at once fairly terrifying. You wonder how change can come, if change can come. Against that stark backdrop you get to witness the power of the human spirit to overcome, to rise above pestilence. In the midst of desolation, the spark of human determination flares a bright and sparkling light. I see this every time I enter this land, the inescapable beauty of the human heart. Great veils of evil do their best to bury, to hide, to nullify that spirit, that goodness, that profound gift of a mighty Creator, and on some fronts it succeeds. We are susceptible to it's wily ways, and so are these dear souls, and the temptation field is such a much more primal foe. It tempts not for pleasure so much as just for a loaf of bread to feed a hungry family. What do I know of such temptation and the power to resist when and where the very essence of life is threatened? To look into the face of your starving child with nothing to feed them, how righteously will you behave. But many do, and many resist, and for that they get my applause, my allegiance, my trust. There are so many stories of courage and grace under fire I witnessed this week, I don't want to re-enter the zone of indifference ever again in my life, to take all the gifts that surround me in my life for granted. I don't want to lose Christmas, or Birthday's, or any of the other ways the extravagance of love is expressed. I believe in Father Christmas! In our materialistic culture, I know in these things we can go overboard, but let us seize the real meaning, and never let go. Surrender not to the Ice Queen of the soul, with all her strange and treacherous delights, I have been to a land that has, and the cold of that wintry grasp has frozen a culture in a stony grip from which it's only deliverance will be the breath of Aslan. We go on His belief, caring the tidings of His return! With hope and help we travail in the darkness with the bright light of love! We will soon descend from the lofty and mighty skies of the universe, a universe that constantly reminds me of my smallness, and reminds us that out there is a power greater than that of any man. Narnia echo's of greatness, of the divine touch of a master builder who will restore it's beauty once more, we must not give up hope! Aslan comes! Blessings from Detroit!