Emelie Thomas

It’s a wild world we live in. Consumption runs rampant, our politics resemble a rumpus, and we are cordoned off from community. Max, the wild child from Maurice Sendak’s iconic Where the Wild Things Are, knows a thing or two about such predicaments. From the confines of his bedroom, Max travels to the wildest world of all, embarking on a mysterious, monster-filled journey which culminates in a reminder of hope and our heavenly haven. Perhaps the Wild Things can call us to turn from our rebellion and revel in the one in whom authority and glory resides…

Disney claims The Snow Queen as inspiration for their Frozen movies. Spoiler alert: aside from a few frozen hearts melted by self-sacrificial love, the similarities cease. In fairytale form, The Snow Queen elucidates the true nature of innocence, the pitfalls of our fallenness, and the path into eternity. Hans Christian Andersen’s story leads us, with his characters Gerda and Kay, to die to the “sensibility” of the world and to discover the true essence of life…

Every redemptive story has a redeemer. This should go without saying — should. So often, worthwhile stories are interpreted in the shallows where they seem to satisfy modern affinities for personal affirmation. Their worthy depths wait, unsounded. Enter, The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge. This classic 1940’s tale by Hildegard H. Smith and Lynd Ward tells the story of a self-important little lighthouse who becomes despondent when an enormous suspension bridge is built by his side. It’s face-value message is that everyone has a pivotal role to play, no matter how small they might seem. Yet, this story contains an often-overlooked redeemer who exposes the book’s central feature — personal pride — for a sham, drawing the reader into a picture of relationship where affirmation is properly placed, and thus redeemed…