As the younger and oftentimes different versions of ourselves, most of us read books.
Most of us read books with adventure. And mystery.
And as anyone and everyone knows, if you want a halfway decent story with any sort of suspense, you absolutely MUST have a secret passageway. Multiple trap doors, hidden stairways, and faux bookcases are preferable. We stared at the cream-colored pages and watched in awe as nancy (once again), found the suspiciously large painting covering a tunnel, and as the magician's nephew discovered gateways in the attic. When all was resolved we sighed contentedly. But 'twas not a fully contented sigh. For, of course, it was all very well and good for our heroes and heroines to have their underground explorations, but we needed more. We needed secrets of our own. So for the next few days or so, we re-explored our houses. We checked meticulously for any of the 'tell-tale signs' (for we were most certainly experts by now), but it was to no avail. Our house was just a place we lived. Not a mystery-ridden dwelling for 'les aventures dangereuses'. We accepted our fate (some with more speed than others), but resolved to make sure, that when we grew up, we would (without a doubt) buy or build a place to live in with secrets. With corridors that no one else knew of, and false walls, and hopefully one of those dumbwaiter things in the kitchen.
So why do so many of our kind forget the passageways?
Because we slowly let them fade out of memory and prioritize other things. Not that there aren't more important and even more exciting things in life than secret passageways. But the ideal home (for many) becomes a brown house among other brown houses in a brown neighborhood with green and manicured yards and 2.5 children. And none of those things are wrong, or bad. But they seem to be the symptoms of something not... good. I fear that losing sight of the tunnels hidden from sight betrays something else - Losing sight of adventure. And adventure is important. Adventure will look different for each person, but it's the spirit of the thing, yes? Adventure seeks for the new, beautiful, dangerous, and glorious. Without a spirit that looks for adventure, I think it's possible to lose joy and hope. And losing sight of those things can kinda make us start to lose sight of the God who is the ultimate source of them. The God who created the beauty for us to enjoy, the beauty that causes us to find joy in Him.
So, my dearest reader, hold fast to the secret passage.
