Confession: I’ve been very judgmental towards a certain people group. And for this I need to repent.
These people I will affectionately call,“C.S. Lewians.” If you went to a Christian college or seminary you may know of whom I am speaking. I define C.S. Lewians as: People who quote or bring up C.S. Lewis in almost every conversation they have. Ever. This group is most often heard saying, “He’s not safe – but he is good.”
I’ll admit I have eye-rolled this group of people many-a-time in my life, but I am here to confess and repent.
One of my co-workers is letting me borrow The Chronicles of Narnia, and y’all, I am not above telling you it is real good. I’ve been converted. It’s real. If you are not a C.S. Lewian (I love you, friend), here’s what you need to know: Aslan is a mighty, powerful, beautiful Lion. His character gives us a really neat picture of the Lord. You’ll understand why I’ve confessed all this to you in a minute.
On a serious and very different note, I woke up the other morning with a heavy heart for our world. I’m typically a very hopeful, optimistic person about this world and the people in it – but with recent events I have felt weighed down with the evil that just seems to keep on happening. So, I did the only thing I knew to do – I started writing down my questions and fears in the form of prayer. I just thought I’d get really real here (why else do we do this, right?) and share it:
What do you want to say to our world today? Our hurting, confused, broken, aching world? This world that feels like we are all against each other…where evil is real and seems to be winning a lot of the time. What does it look like to be victorious in this life? Is that even a reality?
I keep thinking of a scene in The Magician’s Nephew (C.S. Lewians, raise your glass) where the main character, Digory, asks Aslan to cure his mother from her sickness. He looks up for the first time into the eyes of Aslan out of desperation and sees “great shining tears…they were such big, bright tears compared to Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his mother than he was himself. ‘My son, my son,’ said Aslan. ‘I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.’”
How true is this about our Lord – that He grieves even deeper than we do about the heartaches and brokenness we experience in this world?
That is my prayer and what I hold on to in a world that seems to be dying – that deep within us there is a hope for better things. There is a desire to be good to one another.
In the wake of yet another senseless tragedy, we question Your goodness and fear the deep evil that seems to be growing in power here on earth.
And why Lord, are some of Your people often the most hateful ones? You don’t praise the Muslim terrorist that murdered 49 people within the homosexual community, do you?! Why would we ever be happy about the unjust loss of human life?
Let us be good to one another.
In the midst of this I am so convicted of my own comfortable life. While I was trying to figure out what day I could get a haircut, I saw an article about a French policeman and his wife who were brutally murdered in front of their toddler. What is this life?! Am I doing it wrong? The things that seem important to me, the things I care about like JOY, gratitude, Gardens…for Heaven’s sake. They just feel so trivial and fluffy against the backdrop of a world that seems to be burning. Daily tragedies make my life feel like a bubble.
I’m over here worrying about finding a husband when millions of people are worried about losing their lives.
I’m also convicted of how little I ask for Your help. I clearly don’t grasp Your power or understand the weight of prayer. If I did, I’d be on my knees every possible second asking for revival and redemption instead of binge watching Netflix and researching GROUPONS. Heavens. It all seems ridiculous.
I’m grateful to serve a God who cares about all my desires, questions, fears, hopes, celebrations, and more. That my somewhat silly concerns about finding a husband or a haircut matter to you, no matter how small or trivial that might seem in the shadow of an enormous tragedy.
But here I am today, asking – begging – you to WORK in our world. To show us your great shining tears and say, “My Son, my Daughter, I know. Grief is great.” To mourn with us and then revive us. To transform Your followers into love-offerers, truth-tellers, grace-givers. To become people of holiness, who look enough like You that others would want to know You. Help us be good to one another. Teach us to swing wide the doors of our churches and our homes and our hearts to welcome in the hurting, the outcast, the widow, the homosexual, the orphan, the person we disagree with – whoever it might be. Whoever the stranger is in our lives, may we invite them to our table.
I know You mourn with us. I know that You feel the weight and the sadness even deeper than we do. I’m grateful to know a God who mourns with the brokenhearted. I’m asking you to intervene in Your world, Lord. Thank You for being the greatest good amidst a world full of hurt. Make all things new.