Toys

A friend asked me for the Problem of Pain recently because Jamey Pappas used a passage out of it as an illustration at a weekly meeting. Before I lent him the book (which is a collection including six more of C.S. Lewis' most famous works), I flipped through the pages to see what had stuck out to me when I read the book as a 16 or 17 year old boy. This particular one struck me because even as a young man (almost 20), I am impacted by it in exactly the same way as I was a few years ago.

"My own experience is something like this. I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow or a bit of work that tickles my vanity today, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threatens us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happinesses look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real treasure is Christ. And perhaps, by God's grace, I succeed, and for a day or two become a creature consciously dependent on God and drawing its strength from the right sources." -C.S. Lewis

The first way that this affects me is manifested in feeling I don't much enjoy: disgust. I am disgusted with my "fallen and godless condition" almost as much as I am disgusted with my content about it. This is not a matter of self-image. I am confident in who I am. Unfortunately, that confidence is often rooted in my condition. 'I can do well for myself.' 'I am basically a good person.' 'I can do this.' All of these things encourage me to continue in my justifiably OK state. The fact that I can rest on these things in the presence of the living God; that's disgusting. But in fact, this is what I do. I assure myself that as long as I can keep everything in balance and stay in good spirits, everything will work out. Praise God that this is not the case. Praise be to God for not being a god that sounds good. Praise God for my disgust.

Secondly, I am forced to confront my daily routine by this quote. I do my best to fill my days with fun and uplifting activities. I try to schedule in time for fellowship, learning, and relaxing. At best, I go about my days trying to 'integrate' the Holy Spirit into my plans and activities. While these activities may be merry, good, fun, or even altruistic, they are not to be relied upon. My happiness is far too fragile.

Then comes the breakdown. My efforts fall short. My strength is not enough. My will collapses. I fail. I am exposed. I let someone down. Someone lets me down. I can't communicate well. The breakdown takes many forms, but it is always debilitating. Even if I feign strength as I get up from it, I've lost my ability to love or to forgive. It always takes something away from me. Often times it takes my security. I am forced to look somewhere else, somewhere outside of myself, outside of my friends, outside of this world, for my security.

This sucks.

I resist it. I don't want to admit failure or accept help. But in my broken state, what else can I do. Finally I come to terms with my depravity. I rid myself of shame over it because that's what the Bible tells me to do, and I bring it to the altar. I say, 'Abba, this is what I've got for you. Will you take it away from me?' He says yes. He says yes! HE SAYS YES!!! How crazy is that? Not only that, but He takes it from me and then says, 'I've got something else for you.' Then he gives me His strength, his power, and the security and identity of belonging to Him.

Thank you Lord for pain, for suffering, for getting my attention. You are where I always wanted to be, I just didn't know it. Thank you for loving me enough to get my attention. Thank you for pursuing me. Thank you for not stopping when I was satisfied with where my life was at, where I was going. Thank you for accepting me. Thank you for calling me.

You have my attention, do with me what You will.