The Truth Found in Fairytales
Growing up, my deepest desire was for my life to be like one of the books I loved to read. I wanted it so badly that it hurt, deep down in my soul. I wanted adventure … the world-changing, life-altering, incredibly dangerous kind that I read about in my favorite fantasy novels. I wanted to go on great journeys, fight fierce battles, and ultimately save the world.
Searching for this in real life always felt flat to me — two-dimensional and stale. Sure, I could travel — but that wasn’t really the same thing. I could dress up in costumes and go to conventions, or join some sort of role-playing club … but that could never transcend the realm of make-believe. I could learn sword fighting, or archery, or any other combat style found in stories — but what use would that be, really? I could play video games … but the stories are scripted and remain firmly behind a wall of glass — distant, far-away, and most decidedly not real.
It wasn’t until I began to think of fairytales — and fantasy in general — as a metaphor for spiritual life that I began to reconcile the deep longing in my heart. Fairytales are real because they reflect spiritual truths and realities that are otherwise difficult to name. That longing I felt — for world-changing, life-altering, incredibly dangerous adventure — could be found and fulfilled within my Catholic faith.
What is the journey of a soul towards Sainthood, after all, but a well-told story?
The Journey
When Gandalf arrived on Bilbo Baggins’ doorstep one fateful morning, he arrived with a quest. Most fantasy epics start with a similar formula. In our own lives, it can be easy to feel overcome by the mundane — to feel like nothing we do matters, and like we have no particular quest or mission of our own.
The truth is, we have been entrusted with a quest, just like Bilbo. It is not Gandalf who comes to us, but God. He whispers to our heart, tugs gently at our soul, and asks us to begin a journey with him. The journey isn’t physical — we may not cross mountain ranges, or brave a stormy sea — but it is no less real. This journey takes place inside of us, and we travel through a landscape of our own failings, fears, and imperfections, towards our ultimate end — becoming the person God created us to be.
Our quest is simple: To save as many souls as we can, and bring them with us to the journey’s final end — eternal union with God. Though the purpose of our quests are the same, God doesn’t call us to live some cookie-cutter version of the same story. Our stories all look very different because the characters we play in them are not the same. Some of us fulfill our quest by being mothers or fathers, husbands or wives, some of us by being priests or religious. Some of us feed the hungry in Africa — while some of us feed the hungry in our own homes. We are artists, scientists, social workers, teachers, writers … the list goes on. The Saints in God’s kingdom are like snowflakes — no two are alike. The same is true for us, budding saints on a journey, searching for a straight but narrow path.
We forget this sometimes. Forget that we are on a journey. We become mired in the bogs of our lives, stuck and broken and certain we can’t go on. Certain that there is no greater purpose … at least not for us. But here’s the thing — if there is one thing I’ve learned from fairytales, it is that quests aren’t supposed to be easy. Quests are hard. They are scary. And that’s okay. Would any journey be worth it if weren’t life-altering in some way?
The Battle
The Church doesn’t call it Spiritual Warfare for nothing. Though unseen, our battle with the devil and his minions is real. We may not be waving a sword, but the spiritual battle we fight every day is no less dangerous, no less capable of taking our lives. After all, if we lose this battle, we truly lose everything — we lose our soul and our chance for eternal union with our God.
Instead of swords, we have prayers. Instead of armor, we have grace. Instead of battling monsters and terrifying bad guys, we are battling invisible enemies who tempt us, urging us towards sin. These enemies know our weaknesses. They have spied every chink in our armor. They enter into our own minds and lie, whispering until we fall.
But we don’t have to fall. Fairytales remind us of this. They remind us that good always conquers evil, and that there is something out there stronger than the forces of darkness. That something is God.
“Fairytales accustom people to the idea that these limitless terrors have a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, and that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness and stronger than strong fear.” -G.K. Chesterton
The truth is that we are fighting a battle — for our lives and for the fate of the world — every day. We just don’t recognize it because it comes to us in the form of our own human weaknesses, in the form of our own inclinations towards sin.
The Happily Ever After
What is a fairytale without a ‘happily ever after?’
Fairytale endings get a lot of grief — and that grief is well-deserved if they are interpreted within the context of this world. But here’s the thing. While we are living on this earth, our story is never truly over. We won’t marry our one true love and live happily ever after … and we won’t defeat the big bad guy and live happily ever after either — not because it doesn’t exist, but because the ending hasn’t arrived yet. We will fight with our spouses. We will continue to struggle with temptations. We will live through tragedy. And that is because our quest isn’t over when we marry, when we conquer a failing, or when we experience a huge success. Those moments are part of the story, but they are not the end.
It isn’t until we die that our story reaches its final conclusion. In that moment, as the last breath leaves our body, we will reach our happily ever after — eternity with God in heaven.
Did you enjoy this post? Check out my YA fantasy novel, Caladrius Dreams, or my newest writing project, Sunlit Stories! You can also find out more about my writing and editing services here.
