When You Can’t Think of Any Good Blog Ideas . . . .

Since I am fresh out of original material, I thought I’d pick the brain of one C. S. Lewis and see if he has anything worthwhile to say. I found this in an email and thought it worthy enough to share with you. Plus, it uses words like solecism, which I’m going to have to look up now because I have no idea what it means. Here goes:

“If the world exists not chiefly that we may love God but that God may love us, yet that very fact, on a deeper level, is so for our sakes. If He who in Himself can lack nothing chooses to need us, it is because we need to be needed. Before and behind all the relations of God to man, as we now learn them from Christianity, yawns the abyss of a Divine act of pure giving—the election of man, from nonentity, to be the beloved of God, and therefore (in some sense) the needed and desired of God, who but for that act needs and desires nothing, since He eternally has, and is, all goodness. And that act is for our sakes. It is good for us to know love; and best for us to know the love of the best object, God. But to know it as a love in which we were primarily the wooers and God the wooed, in which we sought and He was found, in which His conformity to our needs, not ours to His, came first, would be to know it in a form false to the very nature of things. For we are only creatures: our role must always be that of patient to agent, female to male, mirror to light, echo to voice. Our highest activity must be response, not initiative. To experience the love of God in a true, and not an illusory form, is therefore to experience it as our surrender to His demand, our conformity to His desire: to experience it in the opposite way is, as it were, a solecism against the grammar of being.”

I looked up solecism. According to my handy-dandy Merriam-Webster dictionary, it means “an ungrammatical combination of words in a sentence.” In other words, to experience the love of God in an illusory form is basically to go against the very fabric of our existence. Or something like that.

The fact that God created us and redeemed us and loves us for no other reason than He chooses to do so blows my mind. God didn’t– and still doesn’t– need me but He still wants me. He still wants you, even when it seems nobody else does.

That’s a good thought to take with you as you drift into dreamland tonight.

 

It’s Time To Play “Name That Fear”

I have an image in my mind of that old TV game show where the contestants were constantly yelling, “Big bucks! Big bucks! No whammies!”

It’s time for me to name one of my fears, that big ol’ ugly whammy that has always gotten to me– the fear of abandonment.

I’m putting this out there so that 1) it will lose its power over me and 2) so that you can be brave enough to name your own fear and diminish its power over you. So here goes.

My fear is the fear of abandonment. I’m afraid that you will get to know me and then decide that I’m not worth the effort, that I’m really too messed up for you to deal with, and you will go away.

I go through long stretches where I am good and that fear isn’t a problem. But then someone won’t respond to a text or will stop commenting on and liking my facebook posts and that old fear creeps up. That voice says, “See? They’ve given up on you” or “They’re gradually pulling away from you and pretty soon won’t have anything to do with you.”

Or maybe I’m at a social event and a friend isn’t as friendly as usual and I wonder if I’ve done or said something to offend them. I fantasize in my mind how they’re really angry with me and are just waiting for the right moment to tell me where I can go and what I can do with myself (putting it nicely). I’ve actually played out those scenarios to the point where I’ve thought a friendship was over when it wasn’t even close to being over.

Sometimes you can recognize a lie and believe it anyway because it’s familiar. It’s all you’ve known and lived with your whole life. But when you name it and where it came from, it loses its power over you.

So, I name that fear of abandonment from the pit of hell and I claim the blood of Jesus over it right now. I receive my status as the beloved of God, chosen by Jesus.

Now if I could just hit some of those big bucks. . .