Another Coracle...

So. I have dived back into Phantastes, by George MacDonald. I had bogged down. I picked at the story, listlessly, then finally there was a coracle... my interest picked up...

"I stood one moment and gazed into the heaving abyss beneath me; then plunged headlong into the mounting wave below. A blessing, like the kiss of a mother, seemed to alight on my soul; a calm, deeper than that which accompanies a hope deferred bathed my spirit. I sank far into the waters, and sought not to return. I felt as if once more the great arms of the beech-tree were around me, soothing me after the miseries I had passed through, and telling me, like a little sick child, that I should be better tomorrow. The waters of themselves lifted me, as with loving arms, to the surface. I breathed again, but did not unclose my eyes. I would not look on the wintry sea, and the pitiless gray sky. Thus I floated, till something gently touched me. It was a little boat floating beside me. How it came there I could not tell; but it rose and sank on the waters, and kept touching me in its fall, as if with a human will to let me know that help was by me. It was a little gay-coloured boat, seemingly covered with glistering scales like those of a fish, all of brilliant rainbow hues. I scrambled into it, and lay down in the bottom, with a sense of exquisite repose. Then I drew over me a rich, heavy, purple cloth that was beside me; and, lying still, knew, by the sound of the waters, that my little bark was fleeting rapidly onwards."

Now the story has turned. The narrator has been brought to the island of the "Wise Woman"; MacDonald's typical image of God. Older than old yet younger than young. Now I have hope to read to the end... I was really hungry for God's wisdom... it was so lonely to stumble through Fairy Land without Light or Vision... just self-will and mistakes causing further and further darkness...

This is a multi-layered, intense book. I keep feeling that there are depths I should be getting... but I do not have time to study them out... I am teaching my kids to read and discover nature and reading "The Middle Moffat" on the couch with them. That is more delightful. I have been praying that God causes me to capture what I need from this book... I have a feeling it will stay with me and resonate for a long time to come. The lessons are deeper than words.

I wonder... is this what it feels like to have one's imagination baptised?