Here I am again, writing about Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber, aka my favorite read of 2024 (so far, at least).
Shocker.
(For anyone who hasn’t read my previous Substack about this book, Surprised by Oxford is a memoir recounting Carolyn “Caro” Weber’s conversion to Christianity during her first year studying at Oxford University. Read it. You won’t regret it).
Yesterday, after an emotionally stressful weekend, I found myself grabbing a blanket, a book, and a pair of sunglasses. That book was Surprised by Oxford (again, shocker), which I’d started rereading towards the end of my college semester, but I’d gotten sidetracked since the semester ended. I’ve been doing a lot of reading for my honors thesis, and while I find reading about Tolkien highly enjoyable, there’s a sort of stigma about reading books simply because you “have to” that, even as an English major, I am powerless against.
I love reading outside. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, and it’s also why I love spring and summer (especially spring) so much. I love BEING outside, really, despite not being a hiking or sports type of girl. Just sitting outside and breathing is enough for me. Those quiet moments are so good for my soul; in the beauty of the earth, I so clearly see God. He is in every flower, every cloud, every blade of grass.
Instead of queuing my regular reading/writing playlist (an hours-long mix of my favorite film scores), I shuffled one of my many contemporary Christian playlists, then buried myself in the book. Quickly, I fell back into the story, one of my personal favorites.
(Side note: I wholeheartedly blame this book for tempting me to apply to Oxford for graduate school. Sigh. A girl can dream).
And yeah, it was a perfect hour. I only read about two chapters, but God knew that I needed to read those two chapters. I needed a peaceful hour to be immersed in the beauty of a spring afternoon. I needed that quiet time to rest in Him.
Sitting in my backyard as the wind gently tousled my hair and a honeybee buzzed nearby, I felt like a lot like Caro does in those two chapters as she rounds a physical and spiritual corner in her life during a springtime run:
Just then I broke around the corner and was almost blinded by a final field ablaze in frost-defying flowers of every color. Phoenixlike, Christ Church rose up from the floral flames, and behind her lay the gate.
The last stretch.
It was then that I began to breathe more deeply.
To breathe Him in, and to breathe me out (Weber 259).
As with any good book, Surprised by Oxford is even better the second time around. Literature has a way of touching our hearts in different ways with each reread. Our experiences change our perspectives, which in turn changes how we read and understand a story. Furthermore, art and beauty can be avenues for our growing closer to God. This includes good, beautiful literature, and Surprised by Oxford is no exception.
To paraphrase Marmee from Little Women, I am not even remotely patient by nature. I am restless, eager, and endlessly imaginative. I don’t like sitting stagnant in any stage of my life, but lately, I’ve felt that God is teaching me an important lesson in patience: to use these days well instead of wishing them away. If these days were not meant to happen, He would not give them to us.
And perhaps these days are not stagnant after all. Perhaps they are meant to be lived slowly and remembered softly. Perhaps they are a foundation for something that is still to come.
This lesson reminds me of a beautiful song called “Use Well the Days” by Annie Lennox and Howard Shore, originally written for The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, but ultimately swapped for “Into the West.” In this reflective song, Lennox sings a few lines that particularly resonate with me right now:
“The love you gave is all I take with me
Use well the days, use well the days
Turn your face to the green world
Use well the days.”
I’m pretty sure that this song is sung from Frodo’s perspective as he leaves his friends behind in Middle-earth to sail to the Grey Havens. The lyrics are gorgeous, encouraging listeners to use their numbered days wisely. Again, a beautiful song, but what strikes me most profoundly is the simple title phrase: “use well the days.”
Frodo, tired and broken from carrying the One Ring for so long, desires the world for his dear friends. Before he seeks healing in the Grey Havens, he urges them to enjoy all the beauty in Middle-earth, to do wonderful things with their lives, and to be joyful… even when he is gone. In a way, a new life is beginning for all four of the hobbits — three in Middle-earth and one in the Grey Havens — and Frodo hopes that none of them will waste it.
And so, I’m thinking this is going to be The Summer of Using Well the Days. Of reading beautiful literature under a tree on a sunny afternoon. Of writing my book as a passion project, not a race to be won. Of loving those around me. Of lending a hand whenever its needed. Of praising in the hallway until the door opens. Of seeking God in everything.
It’s not always easy to be contented. It’s not always easy to trust in God’s plan for our lives. It’s not always easy to use well the days. But when we push past our fears, our anxieties, our discontent, our ungratefulness… every day feels like that explosion of spring’s majesty.
I leave you with a final quote from Surprised by Oxford, one from the last chapter I read. It’s out of context, but I think you’ll understand the meaning just fine:
“Dr. Rest—I mean, Elizabeth,” I said, studying her aged and—I noticed for the first time—truly exquisite face. “How do I walk like a fish?”
Her eyes gleamed in the streetlight. “Not walk, dear one. Dance!” (Weber 318).
You heard her.
Dance.
Very powerfully (and beautifully) written. I am sorry that you get your propensity for discontent from me, a difficult burden to carry. The one thing that I rest assured in is that all of my children are better people than I am. I am sure that your desires and ability will fuel your success and that knowledge is difficult to wait for things to happen. Yet you are self-aware and cognizant of the need to be happy in the now. Your maturity is beyond your years. I am living more in the now than I ever have before, but that is out of the knowledge that tomorrow is rapidly approaching, and you are growing up and spreading your wings. I too am planning to make the most of this summer, surrounded by the people I love most in this world.
"If these days were not meant to happen, He would not give them to us.
And perhaps these days are not stagnant after all. Perhaps they are meant to be lived slowly and remembered softly. Perhaps they are a foundation for something that is still to come."
This is definitely what I needed to hear today 💕 so good!!