Still Hot
Those of you who know me, know I love Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are. So much so that this year I bought a pencil case of Max in his wolf suit with the iconic words "I'll eat you up!" written on it. (Incidentally, the Man, who is not a Sendak fan, asked me, "Who bought this weird pencil case? That kid has something coming out of his butt!")
This morning, I pulled out my pencil case to have my quiet time and found myself thinking about how Sendak's editors had tried (and failed) to get him to change the last line from "And it was still hot" to "And it was still warm." Max, the protagonist, has been sent to bed without any supper for misbehaving. He has gone on an adventure to the land of the wild things (sailing off through night and day and in and out of weeks and over a year) where he can be king. A wild rumpus progresses until he realizes that what he wants more than to be king is to be where someone loves him best of all. He returns home to find his dinner waiting for him...still hot. Not warm, and that is significant.
Sometimes, when we have been gone from the one who loves us best of all--pursuing our own power, setting our mark on the world, letting our desires devour those we think we love, attempting to exert control over the wild things about us--we realize that in our escape from discipline, we have left behind what really matters. And we want to return. But we are afraid of what is waiting for us.
I'm here to tell you that I think Sendak got it right (not all the time, some of his work is incredibly macabre, but in this instance). The one who loves you best of all has left dinner waiting for you--and it's not just warm, it's hot.
We think that we have forfeited that. That we will return to another empty room of discipline, or a meal that's been waiting for so long it has grown tepid or slimy. At best, we expect a bowl of warmed over soup and the chance to slip in unnoticed. But no, God has more for us than this. He loves us best of all, and his desire for us doesn't devour, it nourishes.
A hot meal indicates the presence of someone who cares. It is not a sandwich, left to be eaten alone. It is not a meal cooling to warmth that was left some time before by someone who isn't sure if or when we will be ready for it. It is a meal prepared specifically for us by one who knows our going out and our coming in and chooses to bless us with the very best out of his love for us.
Then again, maybe I'm just reading too much into this, and Max's meal was still hot because all of his adventures with the wild things happened only in his head. But I prefer the hope of the former interpretation. And I wondered if you would too.
Sometimes, when we have been gone from the one who loves us best of all--pursuing our own power, setting our mark on the world, letting our desires devour those we think we love, attempting to exert control over the wild things about us--we realize that in our escape from discipline, we have left behind what really matters. And we want to return. But we are afraid of what is waiting for us.
I'm here to tell you that I think Sendak got it right (not all the time, some of his work is incredibly macabre, but in this instance). The one who loves you best of all has left dinner waiting for you--and it's not just warm, it's hot.
We think that we have forfeited that. That we will return to another empty room of discipline, or a meal that's been waiting for so long it has grown tepid or slimy. At best, we expect a bowl of warmed over soup and the chance to slip in unnoticed. But no, God has more for us than this. He loves us best of all, and his desire for us doesn't devour, it nourishes.
A hot meal indicates the presence of someone who cares. It is not a sandwich, left to be eaten alone. It is not a meal cooling to warmth that was left some time before by someone who isn't sure if or when we will be ready for it. It is a meal prepared specifically for us by one who knows our going out and our coming in and chooses to bless us with the very best out of his love for us.
Then again, maybe I'm just reading too much into this, and Max's meal was still hot because all of his adventures with the wild things happened only in his head. But I prefer the hope of the former interpretation. And I wondered if you would too.
