Robbie and I truly had a religious experience at Universal Studios, and I say that because I believe the Holy Spirit was there, present with us, sending us words of hope and knowing. As soon as we arrived in Diagon Alley at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter we went straight to Ollivander’s to get a wand. We weren’t quite sure what to expect, but inside the shop someone told us we could either select a wand from the shelves or visit the Wandmaker and the wand would choose you. So, we went to the Wandmaker, of course.
We waited in a hallway with other people for about ten minutes, and my mind started to wander…”Would they come get us one at a time? What wood might I expect? What kind of power would I want? What am I looking for from the wand?” Hope. I wanted something to embody hope for new beginnings. I played around with the idea of unicorn hair, but part of me felt like unicorns were too pretty and happy for the kind of authentic hope I’m looking for. Then I thought about Harry’s Pheonix feather in his wand. The pheonix could be a great metaphor for our lives as we have risen with life out of the ashes of death. Then something inside me thought about the dragons, and their passion and fire, and something struck a chord with me. The love and power of a dragon could display the kind of hope I want.
Suddenly the assistants were leading us down the hallway… “so we’re doing this as a group,” I thought. We turned a corner and there was the Wandmaker, writing in his book by the dim light of his magical lamp next to him in a room filled with wands all the way up the very tall walls.
I started to step up to him, and one of the assistants pulled me aside. “Everyone please fill into the room with the shorter people in front, so everyone can see.”
I don’t remember what happened next, but before I knew it, the Wandmaker was looking at me and called me forward to receive my wand. He measured my arms and talked about character and the many ways a wand would choose you. I knew he was an actor, but he felt more like a sage wizard. The room, his voice, the air, it all felt real…so magical. He pulled out a wand of rosewood and unicorn hair and gave it to me. “Give it a flick,” he said. Shelves popped out all over the place…just like in the books!!! When Harry was trying out wands! “No, no, no, that won’t do.” Then he pulled out a wand of oak with a phoenix feather, “Ok,” I thought, “This could be it.” He asked me to say, “Wingardium leviosa.” With my best Hermione impression, I waved my wand and said the words. LOUD BANGS, and flickering lights. “I wonder…” said the Wandmaker….I almost jumped out of my skin. “Here is a wand made of ash wood with dragon heartstrings.” When I took the wand in my hand the light shone all around me. It took everything within me not to burst out crying and weeping, because here in my hand was the true embodiment of the strength I desire—the heartstring of fire which rises from the ashes.
I never thought I would own a wand, and yet how many of us are yearning for someone to choose us and offer us a physical and metaphorical gift of meaning in life. I have chosen and held many instruments in my hand: flutes, conducting batons, kazoos, books, paintbrushes. This gift feels different. I know it has no physical power outside of the park, and yet, in my hand I am reminded of the dragon heartstrings that God fixed within my soul.
“I am fearfully and wonderfully made,” says the Psalmist about our Maker. I have been chosen by God to do big things, and so have you. The magic comes when we believe in the Maker’s ability to love us, know us and do marvelous things through us.
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