Real or Not Real?

It was time. Time to see what all the fuss was about. They say that The Hunger Games is the most talked about book/trilogy right now, and that it has exceeded the number of Harry Potter book sales on Amazon. I had to find out why. As a writer and lover of fiction, I've started feeling the necessity of reading great or popular books to find out what their secret is, or at least find out why people can't stop talking about it.

I soon discovered why.

The gripping writing style. Short, choppy sentences. The creativity. The action. The morbid fascination. The rebellion against the bigger powers, the Evil in the world. That deep struggle between good and evil. The feeling that you can have an impact, even if you seem alone at first. The strong yet human heroine, Katniss. Her confusion over how she feels about the two young men in her life, the firebrand that knows her better than anyone and the gentle sunshine that won't stop laying his life down for her even when there are times she almost hates him.

In three words, an emotion shredder.

Or that's how it affected me.

The books sucked me in and swallowed me whole, digesting me by squeezing me through its high packed action and squirting me with emotional gastric juices. I laughed. I cried. I discovered myself trembling almost uncontrollably as I read, until after many hours of doing this I commanded myself to relax. I came on the brink of feverishness. My dreams were but a continuation of the story (even though my version tended toward the heroine finally seeking God for help). It caused me to gasp. To grope in confusion. To hurt.

I'm not sure if being so affected is a credit to the writer or a danger to me.

***If you haven't read The Hunger Games trilogy, I suggest you don't continue reading unless you want me to spoil it for you.***

The books were violent, very violent. I wouldn't let my kids read them until they're practically old. However, the story wasn't glorifying violence, it was pointing out how sickening it was. The plot was solid and engaging, even though I admit that it starts to digress a little bit after the first book. Still, it beckoned you to keep reading, either in dreamy hopes that it would end well or in desperation to end the nightmare because the version you start imagining might be worse than reality.

If the violence and death weren't trampling hard enough on your emotions, the romance finished the job. (Here's where I start sounding grotesquely girly.) To me her choice became obvious. Although it takes awhile to warm up to the truth of his good motives, Peeta, the gentle sunshine, won me over completely. But not Katniss. Not completely. Fear, stubbornness, and confusion hold her back. And, unlike many book characters, she's complicated. Just like me. Too late, she starts to realize all that Peeta is to her when he's captured. Eventually when she starts going nuts thinking of the torture he must be suffering, they rescue him. But he's not the same. When she goes to hug the boy who has loved her most of his life and who would die for her in an instant (he almost has repeatedly), he tries to strangle her. The torture he'd undergone had twisted his love for her into hate.

I felt like a spear had just stabbed me in the gut. I realize that "gut" is not a refined term, but the emotions I was feeling weren't very refined. They were raw. And as the story continued, it felt like the spear was being twisted deeper.

You see, I finally realized that I had unconsciously considered Peeta to be a sort of Christ figure. Not in an idol sort of way, but a reflection of His character sort of way. Of all the things that dip and change in the story, one thing stayed constant: his love for her. Unselfish love. The kind that will die for her in a heartbeat. Or lack thereof. That's why choosing him seemed obvious even when it wasn't to Katniss. But I don't blame her. She was only acting the way I do when I forget that the Love of my life is Jesus.

But then the one constant changes. Peeta's love. Christ's love. And my world starts reeling. Reeling because there's some truth to Peeta's accusations against Katniss. Against me. Reeling because there's nothing she or I can do about it. My one constant is removed. A life without Christ's love is like peering into an empty chasm of death. It's more than unbearable.

It absolutely terrifies me.

NEVERTHELESS!!! Jesus is not Peeta. And Peeta recovers. Yes, it takes time and convincing ("games" of "Real or Not Real?"), and with flashbacks of horror he's never the same, but his love for Katniss gradually breaks through. It's not portrayed as fiercely, but it returns. And Katniss loves him back.

"Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know that this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hate. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life an go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.

"So after, when he whispers, 'You love me. Real or not real?'

I tell him, 'Real.'"

~Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

I took a break from reading for hours in the back of the car to drive the rest of the way home from Niagara Falls with my parents. It provided some time for reflection over what I was experiencing.

Gut-wrenching pain as I realize what my worst fear is, the fear of losing Christ's love. Despair. Despair over the lack of noble excitement in my own story, and despair at ever being able to write one someday. The words of the music I'm listening to wash over me, and some of them lick gently at my wounds:

And when I think

That God His Son not sparing

Sent Him to die

I scarce can take it in

That on a cross, my burden gladly bearing

He bled and died

To take away my sin.

 

And I realize in an instant, foggy yet clear, that I am a part of the most breathtaking Story imaginable. And that I might be able to dimly portray it in a story.

 

 

Then sings my soul . . .

How great Thou art!

 

Yes, I need to get my gaze upward.

 

When peace like a river attendeth my way

When sorrows like sea billows roll

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say

It is well

It is well with my soul.

 

Tho Satan should buffet

Tho trials should come

Let this blest assurance control

That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

 

 

Sometimes the way is lonely

And steeped and filled with pain

And if your sky is dark and pours the rain

Cry to Jesus

Cry to Jesus

Cry to Jesus

And live.

 

 

You are my Hiding Place

You fill my broken heart with song.

 

 

Oh Love that wilt not let me go

I rest my weary soul in Thee.

 

 

Oh what blest assurance! Peeta Mellark is only human. Made up in fact. His love may falter in spite of himself, but Jesus Christ's love never will!!!!! He's not about to let go of me now. I gratefully grip the cool stone on which I wrote the words from that last stanza: "Oh Love that wilt not let me go . . ." Jesus is my Anchor.

 

 

On top of all this, I've still been struggling with questions about what I should be doing. They say that God steers a moving ship, but I don't feel like a moving ship. I feel like a lost ship. However, as I shared some of this with my mother, she reminded me of the words to yet another song:

 

The Guest within told me He is

In all of life's experiences

To make them work for good to me.

 

I know this is true, just as I know now that my worst fear will never come to pass. The love of God is changeless. And then of course what do you think God had me read in my Bible reading next?

 

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,

for his steadfast love endures forever!

...Some wandered in desert wastes,

finding no way to a city to dwell in;

hungry and thirsty,

their soul fainted within them.

Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress.

He led them by a straight way

till they reached a city to dwell in.

Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love,

for his wondrous works to the children of man!

For he satisfies the longing soul,

and the hungry soul he fills with good things.

(Psalm 107:1,4-9 ESV)

 

I may feel like I'm in a desert. But despite my cooling love, God's love burns brightly forever. He's prepared to lead me by a straight way, if I'll let Him.

 

And that is much cause for rejoicing.

 

When Satan appears to stop up our path

And fills us with fears

We triumph by faith;

He cannot take from us,

Tho' oft he has tried

The heart-cheering promise,

"The Lord will provide."

 

He tells me to trust, and never be afraid,

He tells me to trust, and never be afraid,

He tells me to trust, and never be afraid,

But joy in the God of my salvation.

 

Yes, I will rejoice,

Rejoice in the Lord;

Yes, I will rejoice,

Rejoice in the Lord;

Yes, I will rejoice,

Rejoice in the Lord;

And joy in the God of my salvation.

 

I don't feel jubilant, but I choose to rejoice in Christ's enduring love today.

 

"For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart." (Ecclesiastes 5:20)

 

"What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. Infinitely good. And only Jesus can give me that.

 

"So after, when I whisper, 'You'll love me always. Real or not real?'

 

He tells me, 'Real.'"