“Books are not men and yet they stay alive. “
Henry Ward Beecher
I have read two books recently which used the words “maker” or “unmaker”. The first was Orson Scott Card’s book “Seventh Son”. Most recently was J. Scott Savage’s book “Far World – Water Keep”. It is interesting to me that I have read both of them within just a few months of each other. Perhaps it is far more intriguing to see I can remember them. I am starting to feel old.
Why does everything break? I looked up the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics on a few websites. In basic terms, everything winds down. All we see around us is a wind-up clock. If no additional energy is added to a system, it will get slower, and slower, until it stops. Things which were made, become unmade.
I can’t stand the fact that everything around me breaks. My house is only two years old. The concrete has cracks. The stucco has cracks. Carpet shows signs of wear, walls are scratched, windows don’t open and shut like they used to, the floor creaks in spots, the grout is discolored, the paint has flaked on exterior trim, nail-pops have risen to the surface in the walls. The 2nd Law is evident all around me.
Then again, the law is evident in me. I am winding down. Graying, thinning hair. Waistline larger than I wish. Lack of energy to do things I used to do. I long for those days when I had the entire world within my grasp, or so it seemed.
As I saw evidence of the unmaker or unmakers all around me the other day, I had the most curious thoughts: Are there things which don’t wind down? What are the things which makers can make? How do you put the energy back into the things which are in various stages of being unmade?
Ah! There are some really cool things which can be made. Others, after they are made, continue to make, again and again. I have had some of those great “making” experiences in life which I have never forgotten.
Has your soul ever been so deeply moved by a piece of music, that you are left speechless for many minutes?
Below are the words to “When Jesus Was A Little Child”. The music is by Peter Tchaikovsky. It was performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on a Christmas album. I heard it years ago on cassette tape, and played it so many times, I wore out the tape.
When Jesus was a little child,
He made a garden in the wild.
There grew a rose bush ‘neath his care,
Yielding a garland for his hair.
It blossomed full upon a day,
When graceless children passed that way.
They tore the rose bush from its bed,
Stripped all its leaves and blossoms red.
“Whence wilt thou mold thy garland fair?”
Their taunting voices smote the air.
“Leave but for me the naked thorns,”
The Christ replied, yet without scorn.
Then of the thorns all sharp and bare,
They bound a garland o’er his hair.
See where as red as roses grow,
Great drops of blood bedew his brow,
bedew his brow.
The imagery in this song is powerful. It is full of symbolism. I use this as an example to make my point. Words can be things which make. Words can make things which last. When we read them, new energy flows into the words as our mind absorbs them, and they become part of us. The words can provide warmth and a quickening of the inner man. Words can also unmake things which are made. Words can destroy.
I am so eternally grateful for the wholesome, edifying things which I have read in my lifetime. I certainly don’t remember all of the words, but I remember the feelings associated with them. After this life is through, one of my wishes is to be given the opportunity to find all of the artists, musicians, authors, inventors, sculptors, potters, architects, poets, orators, teachers, and testifiers who have ever touched my soul by the things which they made, and thank them.
And then they will assuredly turn to thank that God which gave it to them, in order to share it with us.
I know I will.