Once Upon a Time

(Warning: first episode spoiler alert)

I realize its still a bit early to tell how it will hold up, but I can’t help myself, it’s a fairy tale, and aside from some of the questionable costumes I am fascinated with the new show Once Upon a Time on abc. The premise of this show is that through an evil curse, an array of fairy tale characters have been sentenced to life on earth -where there are no happy endings. They completely forget who it is they are and they go about their every day lives unaware that they are extraordinary. Through some sort of secret portal in a magical tree, Snow White and Prince Charming’s infant daughter is saved from the curse but separated from her family. She grows up on earth as an orphan, going from foster home to foster home with no sense of who she is, no sense of where she has come from or where she belongs. As a teenager she gives up a son who is then adopted by the evil queen, i.e. the mayor of Storybrook, the town on earth where they have been banished. He’s the only one who knows the truth, who knows everyone’s real identity and is adorably confidant that there is hope. The story weaves in and out of fairly tale land and life on earth. There are all kinds of other details that I won’t get into, but as we all know, every curse has its loophole, and it is prophesied that on her 28^th birthday, Snow White’s daughter will return and break the curse. Mmm…goosebumps. I sure do love broken curses. I can hardly wait.

(A few other things I love - that heroines are now 28 rather than 16 and Snow White kicks butt as a super-tough-animal-skin-wearing forest dweller.)

I am so glad that the creators of LOST are taking another attempt at removing the dreary and deceiving veil of normalcy. I’m not sure they fully succeeded in their first attempt, but if I were to try and summarize what it is they are after, whether they know it or not, its this: that life is epic beyond comprehension, that the mundane is a sneaky disguise for extraordinary, that when the fog of reality is lifted, a vast and magical kingdom lays before us, and the role that we play in the story is absolutely pivotal.

I was back in Milwaukee a few weeks ago visiting family. This past trip my five-year-old nephew Remy was particularly delightful. I could practically see with my very eyes his inner landscape expanding, growing and moving, forming new thoughts and feelings. He looked at me differently. He understood the temporal nature of my visit and he just wanted to be near me. Towards the end of my visit he was deeply conflicted about playing in the backyard with his neighborhood friends or sitting on my lap. He bounced around outside and peeked in the door every couple minutes to make sure I was still there, running in to tell me a story or crawl up in my lap for a minute. I could hear him outside telling his friends stories about me as if I was some sort of a magical fairy. My heart actually aches with joy just thinking about it. At one point I picked him up and swung him around and plopped him back down on the floor. His big eyes sparkled and his little heart overflowed. He went over to the counter, grabbed a tiny little thing and said “This is fo you.” He drops in my hand a little silver charm. Dazzled, I thought to myself, “This is way too good to be true. It’s a little castle. Surely it belongs to someone and is not really his to give away.” My sister-in-law looked at him seriously and said slowly and calmly, “Remy, do you really want to give this to Auntie Katie?” He didn’t think twice. He didn’t even flinch, “Yea!” He had found it on the ground a few weeks earlier. It was his treasured possession. It had hardly left his hand or pocket. He always knew exactly where it was, and he gave it to me.

So, here I am, a month later, still starry eyed as I look at this tiny little wonder with its intricate trellises and spires, towers and bridges. Be still my heart. And what I love more than this charm is the way that God knows my language, the way that this little treasure was given to me by the sweet and generous heart of someone who delights me to the core of my being, and the way that this thing is not just a thing, but it is the very breath of God clearing the fog of forgetfulness. It is a reminder of my secret hidden identity. I am adopted by a King, betrothed to a Prince, and indwelt by the Holy Spirit who clothes me in otherworldly garments by the song of His heart. Bold, I know, but true. Painfully difficult to believe some days, but He is so faithful and patient to remind me, so jealous and determined that I remember who I really am.