Lord of the Rings: Time, Action and Choices

In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, among the many fascinating areas for further thoughts and exploration is that of time, and the details of the action and the overall timeline. As noted in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, this was something that Tolkien, ever the perfectionist, spent some amount of time on: going back and re-checking the dates and making corrections as needed, to correctly synchronize the action, especially in The Two Towers and Return of the King, with the multiple different storylines covered in alternating chapters as well as alternating books between Frodo and Sam and everyone else.

The official timeline of the action is found in the last part of Appendix B of Return of the King .  This website has a “Lord of the Rings Timeline,” similar to the Appendix B data but with a few date errors.  This page in a Reddit forum gives a suggested “chronological reading” of the chapters in The Two Towers and Return of the King, though it differs somewhat from the actual sequence in Appendix B.

One thing is very obvious, though, regarding the overall pace and action. So much is happening, and happening very quickly, in book 3 of The Two Towers. Yet, the first two chapters of book 4, with Frodo and Sam following Gollum through the marshes to the arrival of the Black Gate (the beginning of chapter 3) span the same amount of time as all 11 chapters of book 3. The entry for March 5, 3019 gives a crucial sync point:

Gandalf sets out with Peregrin for Minas Tirith. Frodo hides in sight of the Morannon, and leaves at dusk.

The winged Nazgul that Frodo, Sam and Gollum see and feel, heading to the west at the end of chapter 2 (The Passage of the Marshes), is heading west in response to Pippin looking into the Palantir.  Gandalf and Pippin are riding off at high speed on Shadowfax in the early morning hours just as the travelers are slowly approaching the Morannon.   The rest of the events in book 4 occur during the interim travel time of Gandalf and Pippin and then into the early chapters of Return of the King book 5.

Tolkien has given us illustrations of both kinds of life experience and how we perceive the time we live through: the fast-paced days when a lot is happening, and events of only a few days ago seem long past; and the slower days of plodding along, getting tasks done each day, and time for thought about what is happening, as Sam considers various facts regarding Gollum, his master, and their difficult physical circumstances. Life often happens thus, with these alternating patterns of busy activity and slowness. The Israelites had a few momentous, dramatic days in their flight from Egypt and crossing the Red Sea — followed by 40 years of wandering in the desert, punctuated by a few dramatic events but otherwise a lot of travel from place to place. The apostle Paul, in Acts 24:11, relates that “You can easily verify that no more than twelve days ago I went up to Jerusalem to worship,” regarding a series of events that started three chapters earlier.

Yet regardless of how we perceive the time, each day is given as it comes, and it is for us to be good stewards of our time. “Now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation,” (2 Cor. 6:2). We are to redeem the time, to make the most of the time, for the days are evil. (Ephesians 5:16)

Tolkien gives us such a picture of these important truths, in the choices and fate of Gollum. Gollum has lived hundreds of years, long beyond the normal lifespan of his kindred, and lived most of those years doing and thinking evil, and in possession of the One Ring and its destructiveness; most of that time literally cut off in the dark caves, shunning sunlight and air, all the while continuing with acts of murder to serve his immediate needs. Since the time of The Hobbit, almost 80 more years have elapsed. Yet Gollum actually shows up in the Lord of the Rings story for a mere matter of days.

The actual time that Gollum is with Frodo and under his charge, until the time that Gollum betrays Frodo in the tunnel of Shelob’s Lair, is a mere 14 days (Feb. 29-30 and March 1- 12) — days in which Gollum was sometimes separated from Frodo for many hours at a time, but still with Frodo at least some of each day. From that point, Gollum’s destruction is just 13 days away — March 25 at the fires of Mount Doom. On the one hand, given such a short time, it seems incredible that anything could happen in the life of Gollum during these two weeks. That one so hardened, and for so long, could actually begin to respond to Frodo’s kindness, is a marvel of its own; no doubt, it could be said, due to the unusual characteristics of hobbits, who again and again show their resistance to things that affect the big people more easily. Yet these 14 days were Gollum’s limited opportunity for salvation, the time of the treatment of “his cure” as Gandalf had referred to it: a time when kindness and mercy was shown to him in a way he had never experienced before. And during that short time, Frodo actually achieved a level of trust with Gollum, demonstrated when Gollum obediently came to Frodo at the forbidden pool. Yet the end result should not be considered all that surprising: 14 days of kindness and mercy, after several hundred years of meanness and cruelty, was not enough to really get through to Gollum. Throughout the 14 days, Gollum never really comes to the point of recognizing or appreciating the mercy shown to him, of acknowledging his own sins; everything is still cast in terms of himself and how people treat him; Gollum is incapable of any gratitude for the mercy shown to him by Faramir and his men for not killing him at the Forbidden Pool.

In the end, though, we are all accountable for the time and the opportunities given to us: opportunities to perceive God’s kindness, opportunities to repent (Romans 2:4) — or not to repent. “Whether short time or long,” the apostle Paul urged King Agrippa regarding salvation in Acts 26:29. So that everyone will be held accountable to God, and that man is without excuse before God. And God is pleased in many instances to grant salvation to people in their old age, after years of hardening. But many, like Gollum, have become too hardened, and waste the opportunities given them.

Yet there is hope, while life lasts, as we do not know the outcome for each person.  C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia provides us a positive example, an opposite of Gollum:  Eustace, for all the brattiness and meanness acquired in his short life (and in that respect a great advantage over the aged, wicked sinner Gollum), finally reached the place where he  recognized and appreciated the kindness that the others had shown him, and wanted to be restored to humanity.  His brokenness led to godly repentance, and Aslan finally came and un-dragoned Eustace.

Read Full Post »

The ‘If Onlys’ and ‘What might have beens’ in Lord of the Rings

“If only,” “what might have been!”  Sometimes we make it into a game of speculation, like a time travel story where we can change the present.  At other times we’re overcome with regret at past choices, imagining that somehow life would have been better “if only.”  We even find examples and teaching in the Bible on such matters.  David asked and received an answer from God, as to what the men of Keilah would do, if they would give David up to Saul.  It was a contingent event that never happened, since David then acted on that possibility by fleeing from Keilah.  The book of Ecclesiastes (7:10) warns against the negative thoughts that come with regret about past choices:  Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions.

As noted at the Lenten Lord of the Rings, the first chapters of Return of the King bring us to a rather depressing point in the story:  Frodo has been captured by Orcs, Sam yet to rescue him; Pippin  and Merry have been separated, and each feels the loneliness of being away from their best friend.  When we reach the chapter on The Pyre of Denethor, this post from the Lenten LOTR looks at some of the “What ifs” in the story.

It is an amazing aspect of Tolkien’s work, the level of detail and consistency within the story, that we can find many such plot points at which choices are made, and we can think of “alternate realities,” such as this idea:  what if Pippin had not been taken with Gandalf to Minas Tirith?  Then Theoden would have dismissed the service of two halflings; Dernhelm/Eowyn could handle one hobbit on her horse, but not two.  Likely, both Merry and Pippin would have been left behind, together.  Yet, without Pippin in Minas Tirith, Denethor would still have gone mad with despair, but without a hobbit to speak up for Faramir; Pippin saved Faramir’s life.  Gandalf would not have known of Denethor’s madness, and would have gone out to the battle, to the slaying of the Lord of the Nazgul.  If Eowyn had gone alone with the company, then Merry would not have been there to assist, and Eowyn would have died there on the battlefield – unless of course, Gandalf (not knowing about Denethor’s doings) had intervened there and possibly saved both Eowyn and King Theoden.  In that alternate series of events, Theoden might have lived, though Faramir died.

Interestingly enough, “What ifs” are played out even within Lord of the Rings — by Denethor, which provides us a strong reminder about wisdom and folly, and the danger of dwelling too much on the past –on how things could have been different and turned out more to our liking.  For it is Denethor in particular who has this mental/emotional/spiritual malady.  Denethor would have preferred that Faramir would have gone up to Imladris (Rivendell) instead of Boromir; that Boromir would not have died.  He then wishes that Boromir had been in the place of Faramir; Boromir would have brought the ring to him.  Gandalf responds with the wisdom and foreknowledge of God, telling him what would have happened to Boromir.  Denethor insists that Boromir would have not changed but been dutiful to him.

‘Do you wish then,’ said Faramir, ‘that our places had been exchanged?’ ‘Yes, I wish that indeed,’ said Denethor. ‘For Boromir was loyal to me and no wizard’s pupil. He would have remembered his father’s need, and would not have squandered what fortune gave. He would have brought me a mighty gift.’ …

‘Stir not the bitterness in the cup that I mixed for myself,’ said Denethor. ‘Have I not tasted it now many nights upon my tongue, foreboding that worse yet lay in the dregs? As now indeed I find. Would it were not so! Would that this thing had come to me!’

‘Comfort yourself!’ said Gandalf. ‘In no case would Boromir have brought it to you. He is dead, and died well; may he sleep in peace! Yet you deceive yourself. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing, and taking it he would have fallen. He would have kept it for his own, and when he returned you would not have known your son.’

The face of Denethor set hard and cold. ‘You found Boromir less apt to your hand, did you not?’ he said softly. ‘But I who was his father say that he would have brought it to me.

What happened to Denethor, is a strong reminder to us, not to fall into such negative thinking, and playing what ifs, agonizing over past wrong choices and thinking how it could have been so much better.

But we can only live in the now, the present. We cannot undo the past, but must live with what we have now, which includes the consequences of past choices.   Above all, we must conform ourselves to God’s will, what it is now and for the future, trusting that – often in spite of ourselves – God in His Providence has brought us to this place, to this path (and not to some other).  Denethor finally despaired, answering to Gandalf what he really wanted (and could not have):

‘I would have things as they were in all the days of my life,’ answered Denethor, ‘and in the days of my longfathers before me: to be the Lord of this City in peace, and leave my chair to a son after me, who would be his own master and no wizard’s pupil.  But if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught: neither life diminished, nor love halved, nor honour abated.’

As C.S. Lewis well said, “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, in the end, “Thy will be done.”

 

 

Read Full Post »

Lord of the Rings: Frodo, Sam, and Modernist, “Scientism” Thinking

In my Lenten Lord of the Rings journey, I’ll be starting on book 5, the Return of the King, tomorrow (which is also Tolkien Reading Day), after finishing The Two Towers (The Choices of Master Samwise) today.  I’ve noted several interesting things during this read of Lord of the Rings, for upcoming blog posts.  For this time, some observations regarding Frodo – some modernist tendencies, and his understanding of men.

Frodo, in contrast to Sam, acts as a bridge to us modern readers and our modern way of thinking – of the rational, material, logical approach to life, looking (mainly) at secondary causes.  For example, after the hobbits (in The Taming of Smeagol), use the elven rope that Sam brought along to get down a steep cliff, Sam is dismayed at having to leave the rope behind.  When Sam says “farewell” to the rope with one last tug, it suddenly falls down, returning to him.  Frodo insists that either the rope tore from its knot at the top of the cliff, or that the knot came undone – the only two options, seemingly.  The other end is not frayed, so Frodo concludes that the knot itself wasn’t tight to begin with.  Sam objects, noting his own skill with ropes and knots (as in the family tradition), and reveals to us the third option:  the rope had “elven magic” in it and came to him at his bidding.

Later, in Frodo’s conversation with Faramir, Frodo questions the story Faramir tells of seeing the elven boat with Boromir laid in it in funeral state.  Frodo’s skepticism connects us to modern times and the modern tendency to focus on the secondary causes, neglecting the reality of the power of God, the God who is still present and who still performs miracles.

‘Yet how could such a thing have happened in truth?’ asked Frodo. ‘For no boat could have been carried over the stony hills from Tol Brandir; and Boromir purposed to go home across the Entwash and the fields of Rohan. And yet how could any vessel ride the foam of the great falls and not founder in the boiling pools, though laden with water?’

Faramir reminds him of this power, manifested in Middle Earth through the elves:

‘You passed through the Hidden Land,’ said Faramir, ‘but it seems that you little understood its power. If Men have dealings with the Mistress of Magic who dwells in the Golden Wood, then they may look for strange things to follow.

Somewhat related to this, we also see that the hobbits have less discernment (at least in their head knowledge) regarding men, than men of the halflings.  It was at Rivendell, after the adventures with Strider in the wilderness, and thinking about Strider, that Frodo admitted to Gandalf:

I didn’t know that any of the Big People were like that. I thought, well, that they were just big, and rather stupid: kind and stupid like Butterbur; or stupid and wicked like Bill Ferny.

‘You don’t know much even about them, if you think old Barliman is stupid,’ said Gandalf. … But there are few left in Middle-earth like Aragorn son of Arathorn. The race of the Kings from over the Sea is nearly at an end. It may be that this War of the Ring will be their last adventure.’

In later conversation with Faramir, as Sam began to trust Faramir he spoke more freely, and  slipped out the news about Boromir and the Enemy’s ring.  Again it is Frodo’s head knowledge thinking that objects, “Sam!”  As Faramir points out to them, you are less judges of Men than I of Halflings, and to Sam, your heart is shrewd as well as faithful, and saw clearer than your eyes.  For strange though it may seem, it was safe to declare this to me.

Throughout both The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, the hobbits generally are considered a “bridge” from the mythic past to the modern world and modern-thinking readers.  Even within that framework, Tolkien developed specific traits, such as Frodo the rationalist, materialist-influenced thinker as contrasted with Sam the heart and intuition type of person.

And tomorrow is March 25: Tolkien Reading Day (see this page at The Tolkien Society), and a significant date in Middle Earth, the day that the One Ring was destroyed.  That date is also significant within classical, liturgical Christianity, as the Annunciation, the day of the announcement to Mary that she would be the mother of Jesus Christ.  It is also the date, in classical Christianity, of Christ’s death on the cross.  (March 25 is 9 months before December 25, thus the importance of March 25.)  An online search shows many people observing March 25, Tolkien Reading Day.  As one special activity, I attended an online event yesterday, a scholarly lecture series with speakers from Europe and America, on “Values Tolkien Teaches.”  The recording of that event will be available at this Youtube link soon.

For all of you my readers, what Tolkien work do you have plans to read, for March 25 Tolkien Reading Day?

Read Full Post »

Evil Counsellors (Wormtongue, and the Queen of Underland in Narnia) and Restoration

Continuing in the Lenten Lord of the Rings journey, some thoughts from The Two Towers, chapter “The King of the Golden Hall.”  As I was reading the parts concerning Grima Wormtongue, I was reminded of another evil counsellor, who was likewise depicted as a serpent (in a literal form): in The Silver Chair, the serpent that killed Prince Rilian’s mother, and later ensnares the Prince himself, in bondage to the “Queen of Underland,” to finally reappear in its true form of a serpent.

Though Grima does not literally change into a snake, the reference comes out in several places in the dialogue:

“See, Theoden, here is a snake! With safety you cannot take it with you, nor can you leave it behind. To slay it would be just. But it was not always as it now is. Once it was a man, and did you service. …

‘Nay, Éomer, you do not fully understand the mind of Master Wormtongue,’ said Gandalf, turning his piercing glance upon him. ‘He is bold and cunning. Even now he plays a game with peril and wins a throw. Hours of my precious time he has wasted already. Down, snake!’ he said suddenly in a terrible voice. ‘Down on your belly!

The situations are somewhat different, but show some clear similarities.  King Theoden has been shut in his dark castle, the Golden Hall which is dark by contrast with the daylight outside, and shut up with fears — that he is an old man, that he should take extreme caution and not do anything that might endanger his health in his dying days, that he should stay in that dark place.  Rilian is still a prince, heir to the throne, and yet quite literally in a dark place, under the ground; and he too, similar to Theoden, only goes outside (to the world above) seldom, when the Queen of Underland allows it and takes him with her.

Of course, the depiction of the evil character is more developed in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.  Grima Wormtongue is servant to a greater demonic power, that of Saruman (who in turn has been in the service of the greater Dark Lord Sauron), whereas the Queen of Underland is understood to be representative of the devil or Satan himself, without any hierarchy of evil.  (C.S. Lewis, though, certainly understood and elsewhere taught such a concept of demonic hierarchy, as for instance in his classic work Screwtape Letters.  The simpler form is presented in the Narnia series, intended for children readers.)

The evil characters in both places seek domination over other wills, and do so in accordance with the measure of their demonic abilities.  While the Queen of Underland hoped to conquer and rule over all of Narnia, apparently Grima hoped for his reward from Saruman — the treasure, and Eowyn, as Gandalf described it:  you were to pick your share of the treasure, and take the woman you desire.

Yet in both cases their victim was under a spell:  not knowing their true, real self; in darkness, bondage, delusion and fear, trapped by the poison of a “toxic person” as described by the psychologists of our day.  Both Rilian and Theoden needed help from someone outside, as they were powerless to change their situation.  Rilian had his Silver Chair, that must be destroyed for the spell to be broken; he had tried once to break free, but the evil queen had been there and prevented his escape.  Theoden had friends who saw his situation and loved him, yet could do nothing for Theoden, whose will was in Wormtongue’s care.  “A man may love you and yet not love Wormtongue or his counsels,” said Gandalf.  For both of them, a healing was needed, and help must come from outside — messengers sent to them from God.

So in Aslan’s purpose, messengers from our world (rather like departed saints, or angels, from the Narnian perspective — people not living among them in Narnia) were sent — Eustace and Jill — to free the prisoner.  In Iluvatar’s will, Gandalf had been “sent back” — as Gandalf described it in the previous chapter to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli: sent back from death, after the fall into the pit with the Balrog in Moria, to continue the work for Gandalf to do.  And that work included coming to Theoden’s hall, and breaking the spell that had been put on King Theoden.

The healing is completed, the spell broken, and the characters can take action and move forward with their lives.  In the words of Prince Rilian, upon destroying the silver chair:

“Lie there, vile engine of sorcery,” he said, “lest your mistress should ever use you for another victim.”  Then he turned and surveyed his rescuers; and the something wrong, whatever it was, had vanished from his face. …. “Had I forgotten it [Narnia] when I was under the spell?” asked the Knight. “Well, that and all other bedevilments are now over.”

The wise counsel that Gandalf brings to Theoden, is so applicable for us all. When Theoden asks about the counsel that Gandalf had mentioned, first comes encouragement: “You have yourself already taken it,” answered Gandalf.  The counsel: “To put your trust in Eomer, rather than in a man of crooked mind. To cast away fear and regret.  To do the deed at hand.” And herein lies an answer to difficulties for all of us. Listen to the right people, cease listening to the voice of the enemy (and negative thoughts contrary to goodness, beauty, and truth), to put the past behind, and move forward. As the apostle Paul said (Phil. 3:13-14): Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus.

Theoden is roused to go to the battle. He still has strength in his body, his people have strength, and there is still hope. Prince Rilian joins the travellers to escape from the Underworld, to meet his dying father and then to take on his responsibilities as the next King of Narnia.

Read Full Post »

Elrond the Priestly, Fatherly Figure: The Fellowship Sets Out

As I continue through the Lenten Lord of the Rings reading schedule, again so many themes pop up.  A few observations now, from the first three chapters of book 2 of Fellowship of the Ring — the chapters set in Rivendell, before the Fellowship departs.

As I’ve learned more about the ancient Christian faith, including the role of priests within both Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism (a particular reference point for J.R.R. Tolkien from his early life), I notice Elrond depicted as a priest and father-figure, the ideal that Tolkien was certainly familiar with–such as the priest who became his guardian after his mother died.

Just as such priests provide direction and counsel to the young people under their spiritual care, as to what spiritual activities each person should attempt, so Elrond provides the initial guidance and blessing to the Fellowship. Elrond considers who should and should not be a part of the Company, weighing various factors such as representing the many free peoples, as well as the abilities of each person, and their maturity (or lack thereof). He hears Frodo affirm his previous vow, to be the Ring-bearer. Similar to the role of a father-figure or priest, Elrond feels that the younger hobbits should assist in a way more suited to their abilities, to help strengthen the Shire in its peril; and Elrond’s heart is against including the youngest hobbit, Pippin, in the Fellowship. Gandalf advises differently — to consider their friendship rather than their might — and when Pippin insists on going, that unless Elrond locks him up in prison or sends him home tied in a sack, he will follow the Company, Elrond concedes the matter, though without a strong blessing: Let it be so then. You shall go, Elrond sighs. Iluvatar’s Providence overrules (Romans 8:28) in the end, and it is through the course of what later happens to Merry and Pippin that other great, unexpected benefits come — but in the meantime, Pippin especially later has his time for regret: ‘I wish I had taken Elrond’s advice,’ muttered Pippin to Sam. ‘I am no good after all. There is not enough of the breed of Bandobras the Bullroarer in me: these howls freeze my blood. I don’t ever remember feeling so wretched.’

Elrond continues to advise and pronounce blessing on the Company, including this charge and counsel just before they depart:

The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy will it be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road.

Clearly, many in the Company do not know the strength of their own hearts, and will be tested as they journey south. Pippin soon realized the weakness of his own heart. Gimli later found the greatest testing of his heart, in his desire to remain in Lothlorien, with the Lady Galadriel. Sam must choose more than once, between another strong love — the pony Bill, and then his father and the Shire in trouble — and staying with Frodo. Of Boromir, the verse of St. Paul in 1 Corinthians 10:12 is fitting: “Let him who thinks he stands take heed, lest he fall.”

Frodo will treasure up the words of the wise — of Elrond, as well as Gandalf – at later critical moments of his quest, for the decision he must make. He remembers Elrond when he later meets up with Faramir: you may find friends upon your way when you least look for it.

Through their experiences on the road together, they will all meet challenges and temptations and difficulties. Yet Elrond, the priestly, fatherly figure back at Rivendell, gives them his blessing as they set out into the unknown:

Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!

Read Full Post »

Hobbits in the Shire: Iluvatar’s Providence and Protection

The Lenten Lord of the Rings blog has some great thoughts and themes for consideration, from the first chapters of Fellowship of the Ring, the adventures of Frodo and his friends starting in the Shire, then the taking on of the quest, and then as they travel through the Shire.  In the quest motif, from its beginning through later events, it is indeed easy to see parallels to the experience of Lent (as a type of pilgrimage or journey), as well as more generally to our Christian lives as pilgrims in this world, on a journey passing through (this world is not our home) as our journey takes us through times of joy and gladness, and feasting, as well as difficulties.  The themes noted at the Lenten LOTR site (see posts The Real Choice for day 2 and A Slow Start for day 3 readings) include the value of conversations and different types of conversations, festive holiday times, good people versus dangerous, evil people, mercy, the quality of good friends such as Elfs, and even the theme of mushrooms as an embodiment of home.

Another theme that sticks out to me, is the work of Providence, and how the hand of Iluvatar is working to bring various characters onto the scene, and often in the nick of time to avert disaster.  If the evil Sauron were the only power, along with the natural course of events, Frodo with the Ring should have been caught by the Black Rider long before they reached Buckland.  It is as though something restrains the Black Rider each time.  The Black Rider shows up to visit Hamfast Gamgee, instead of coming next door where Frodo is.  The first time along the road, Frodo almost puts on the Ring, but just then the Rider backs away.  The next time, they are saved when a company of elves “just happens” to show up along the road at the same moment as a Black Rider.  Obviously it works as part of a story, the sub-creation.  If things occurred as they “naturally” ought to have — and as it often seems in real life, where we don’t always see the “happy coincidences” that occur in fiction — the story would have ended even before the quest had started.

Yet the same quality, of people arriving, and unexpected events, occurs in the many stories in our world’s history, and in some of the great events told in the Bible.  The story of David and his band of followers, pursued by King Saul and his army, has some similarities.  One time, Saul’s men are very close to capturing David, when a messenger intervenes, such that Saul and company must back off and go elsewhere.  Saul is kept from harming David time and time again.  Satan can only do as much harm to Job as God will allow; there is a restraint on the worker of evil.  Wars among nations have gone differently due to seemingly small, unexpected events, such as the betrayal plans of Benedict Arnold falling into the hands of the American side.  When Queen Esther asked for a one-day delay answer to King Ahasuerus, the next night and day of Providential events changed the outcome.

So in our daily lives, often God brings people to us, at the “right” moment — a “chance” meeting with an acquaintance, an encouraging word at the right time when the person is depressed, information from one person is shared (in a blog post, or other online post) that answers another person’s particular situation.  One person’s need for a job to be done is filled in the person with the right skills, there at the needed time. Unexpected hospitality comes, such as Frodo experiences from both the elves (and particularly Gildor) and Farmer Maggot, who are provided at the right time, companions for the situations at hand.  Through all of this we marvel at the providence of Iluvatar.

 

Read Full Post »