Dear friends,
I’ve had something of a revelation recently that I want to share. It concerns a vulnerable, not-yet-healed part of myself, so I will approach it from somewhat farther away.
Lately, I’ve been reading J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. A key element of the story is the One Ring, forged by the Dark Lord in the fires of Mount Doom. As evil spreads over the land, the people’s final hope rests with two unassuming friends tasked with sneaking the Ring back into the mountain where it was forged. Only by casting the Ring back into the fires it came from can it be destroyed, along with the evil that created it. It is a gripping story, but only recently have I begun to appreciate how meaningful it is.
