Do You Hear What I Hear?

I tend to get in the middle of a task and suddenly needing something I can’t reach or forgot to grab in the first place. No problem. My husband, Will, is usually in the house, so I yell for him.

This exact scenario happened the other day, and fortunately, Will called back to ask what I needed thus expressing a willingness to retrieve said item. I told him exactly what I needed and exactly where to find it. The search was on.

I know, because I was the last person to use the item and/or the one who purchased it and placed it where it belonged, that it was exactly where I said it would be. But Will could not find it.

Now, if your home is anything like the Gibson Household, at this point, a conversation bellowed between rooms takes place because why would you walk into the room where the person in need is located? And now stuck in many ways! No help in locating the desperately needed item was forthcoming.

Except for a continued description of the item in the minutest detail shouted across the house in a voice somewhere between panic and rising anger. Quite possibly through clenched teeth.

And then, most unexpectedly and with great enthusiasm, Will’s shout of, “I found it!” rang throughout the house. Sighs of relief were enjoyed all around and life resumed with some sort of normalcy.

Upon parting, however, he made a strange comment. “I couldn’t see it because I expected it to look like that other thing you have.”

What? I described what I needed in precise detail. Slow dawning came. “You weren’t really listening, were you?” At this point, I could allow my annoyance to boil over into anger, but HaShem has taught me to pause and look at the situation because there is usually a lesson involved.

Because Will expected the item to look like something else, he literally could not see what I needed on the shelf in front of him. My verbal description, i.e., what he heard, was useless because his brain saw what he wanted. He was blinded by his expectations.

How many times have we done the same thing with Adonai? We humbly petition for something we need, and when the answer doesn’t arrive looking exactly as we expect, we cannot see it. Or worse, we claim our prayer wasn’t answered.

The same thing applies when reading scripture. Believers claim that HaShem is still speaking to them, but when His words on the page don’t match our image of Adonai based on our religion, doctrine, theology, or traditions, we cast Him, His character, and his Word aside. We’re not hearing, and what’s worse, we’re not listening.

Believers who don’t or won’t listen cannot see what’s right in front of them. They cannot perceive HaShem’s truths. Their spiritual sight weakens because their ears are not listening, and they begin to trust what they see more than what they hear. In short, they aren’t obeying.

Obedience begins with hearing, progresses to listening, and grows into action.

Now don’t hear me say that my husband wasn’t obeying me. The point of this post is not to criticize men or husbands. I turned Adonai’s brilliant insight back on myself and learned that my expectations will be satisfied to their utmost when they look like HaShem’s will for me. I’ll know His will for me when I listen to His Word and act upon it.

Only then will I find Him, only then will I see Him.

The Angel’s Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

Carlos Ruiz Zafón takes a walk on the darker supernatural side in The Angel’s Game, his second installment in the Cemetery of Forgotten Books series. Zafón’s Gothic tale is actually a prequel to his successful first book in the series, The Shadow of the Wind. If you haven’t read the first book, I highly recommend you do as it is still the best in the series in this writer’s opinion.

Still, The Angel’s Game is not to be missed as it returns the reader to Barcelona, Spain, this time in the 1920s, as well as the bookshop Sempere & Sons and the Cemetery of Forgotten Books. It also plunges the reader back into Zafón’s flamboyant style of storytelling with lots of dark and shadowy nights shrouded in mist.

The novel is the classic “make a deal with the devil” tale where the protagonist, David Martín, accepts an offer from a mysterious publisher to write a book that will present the world with a new religion. In doing so, Martín regains his health and earns an incredible amount of money. Soon, however, Martín discovers that he is not the first person to undertake this offer, and like his most recent predecessor, he fears he is losing his mind to the endeavor.

The Angel’s Game isn’t deeply theological or highly intellectual.  At its heart, it’s just great storytelling. Anyone remotely familiar with the Bible will recognize the references to the angel of light (one of the Adversary’s favorite ways to deceive mankind), the 6.66 pages a day our protagonist must write to achieve his goal (does that one even need explaining?), and the character Andreas Corelli (the name Old Nick chose to use for this sojourn among men) saying he’d been kicked out of his father’s house after a disagreement (which stands to reason when one challenges God for supremacy).

However, there are some questions that arose for me while reading. One of the thoughts on my mind was whether Zafón had written himself and/or his own wishes into the story. Is he speaking through Martín when the protagonist comments on how writers sell their soul for the dream of publication? Is Zafón, a writer of successful pulp fiction like Martín, consumed with the same desire his character is to write something he believes to be more worthy? And when a peripheral character tells Martín he has seen the angel brooch Andreas Corelli wears on Martín’s own lapel, is Zafón intimating that the demons writers struggle with come from within?

Another theme that Zafón floated was God as both good and evil, two halves of the same coin. I found this reinforced at the end of the book when Andreas Corelli, usually dressed in black, appears in white and offers Martín a blessing and a curse neatly packaged as one gift. But Zafón will have to forgive me if I feel no sympathy for the devil when he says, “…for once you will walk in my shoes and will feel what I feel.” Nor do I trouble myself believing the devil would ever admit he’s wrong such as Corelli did.

All this led to my second thought in which I speculated that Zafón was either a disgruntled former member of a particular belief system or he had written under the impression of said belief system. Or maybe he chucked religion all together and just created an intricately woven story sure to keep the reader up all night. Whatever the case me be, The Angel’s Game is a good story. The slightly far-fetched portions are barely noticeable when the book is taken as a whole, there is a slump in pacing near the end of the book, and the ending isn’t quite as satisfying as The Shadow of the Wind, but none of these factors are enough to keep me from pressing on with the series.