C.S. Lewis

Little Victories

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So last fall I did something a bit offbeat. I bought a tiny tent for Peanut. It was $20, so I figured it would be worth it to give Peanut yet another napping spot where she could hide from the world while she gets her 23 hours of beauty rest.

I didn’t figure on the required assembly, so it sat on my bed for a while before I finally dug up the courage to read the instructions and put it together. More accurately, I read the instructions, couldn’t figure them out, messaged the company, got sent an instructional Youtube video, watched the video, then put the tiny tent together.

Then Peanut showed her appreciation by sleeping right next to it. A couple of times, she poked her head in to look around but decided she wasn’t having any of it. Finally, today I put in a different blanket that she’s used before and voila! She finally decided to try it out.

Sometimes, life can be hard. There can be very little going right for you. That’s when it’s important to celebrate the little victories. Did you get to the end of the month with all your bills paid? Victory. Did you get to the end of the month, period? Victory.

Do you have a roof over your head? Victory. Did you have at least one warm meal today? Victory. Were the clothes you wore today clean? Victory. See? You have lots of little victories to celebrate if you think long and hard enough.

God is good even when times are tough. God is working even when we can’t see it or feel it. Once we get over our American entitlement mentality, we see that every single good thing in life is a gift from God. Sometimes the trials themselves can be gifts if they cause us to look up in prayer and desperation. Pain can be God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world, including those of us who profess to follow Him (with much thanks to C. S. Lewis for that one).

Give thanks for all the little victories, and maybe just maybe you’ll see some bigger breakthroughs in your life. At least you’ll see God more clearly.

The Real Country

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“Peter,” said Lucy, “where is this, do you suppose?”. . . “If you ask me,” said Edmund, “it’s like somewhere in the Narnian world. Look at those mountains ahead—and the big ice-mountains beyond them. Surely they’re rather like the mountains we used to see from Narnia, the ones up Westward beyond the Waterfall?”. . .

“And yet they’re not like,” said Lucy. “They’re different. They have more colors on them and they look further away than I remembered and they’re more . . . more . . . oh, I don’t know . . .”

“More like the real thing,” said the Lord Digory softly. . . .

“But how can it be?” said Peter. “For Aslan told us older ones that we should never return to Narnia, and here we are.”

“Yes,” said Eustace. “And we saw it all destroyed and the sun put out.”

“And it’s all so different,” said Lucy.

“The Eagle is right,” said the Lord Digory. “Listen, Peter. When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our own world, England and all, is only a shadow or copy of something in Aslan’s real world. You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy. All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as a real thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream.” His voice stirred everyone like a trumpet as he spoke these words: but when he added under his breath “It’s all in Plato, all in Plato: bless me, what do they teach them at these schools!” the older ones laughed. It was so exactly like the sort of thing they had heard him say long ago in that other world where his beard was grey instead of golden. He knew why they were laughing and joined in the laugh himself. But very quickly they all became grave again: for, as you know, there is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes. . . .

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”

From The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis

One day soon. One day soon.

My Favorite Bookstore

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I confess that I currently listen to more books than I read. Since I spend a lot of time in my car, it makes sense to listen to books through Audible. That said, I still love an honest to goodness bookstore that only sells books.

I do love me some Barnes & Noble, but I also admit they’re like the big bad bookstore in You’ve Got Mail. They not only sell books but movies, music, and lots of other stuff. They have a very retail chain feel to them.

My favorite bookstore right now is probably Landmark Booksellers. It’s close enough so I can go there regularly. They have a unique indie vibe that I really like. They also sell new and used books, which is definitely right up my alley.

On a bit of a tangent, there’s something about holding and reading a physical book, especially if it’s older. Those old books have an aroma and a texture that makes you want to soak in every word.

Parnassus is also a legit bookstore, but it’s a bit out of my way to go there, plus the parking in Green Hills is practically nonexistent. But that’s a good one for those who live more in the Nashville area.

I hope there will always be books and people who read books and places that sell books. I can’t imagine a world with only audio books and Kindles. That would be super sad.

Today, I picked up an old used C. S. Lewis book at Landmark. It wasn’t a planned purchase, but I saw this old book with the dust jacket still intact, and it called my name. What else could I have done?

Another Good Read

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Technically, since I’m enjoying this book through Audible, it would be a good listen rather than a good read. But the narrator is really good and the story has a pace that’s just right and neither too slow or too quick.

Surprised by Oxford is right up my alley. It’s set in Oxford among the ghosts of C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien and the like. Actually, there are no ghosts, but the fingerprints of Lewis and Tolkien are all over this story.

It’s a story about a journey to from unbelief to faith told in a riveting style that reads (or listens) like a novel rather than a memoir. I can visualize just about everything in my head despite never actually having been to Oxford.

I know there’s a movie based on the book that I want to see, but I also don’t. I know the movie will leave out significant portions of the book and condense other parts to make it fit into the 90 or so minutes that comprise the average length of a typical film. But also it will show Oxford in all its glory and make me want to go there more than I already do at the moment.

There are so many cultural and literary and musical references that are right up my alley. There are lots of mentions of U2 songs and of course lots of nods to Lewis. It’s set during the 90s when I myself would have been a college student, so I get that timeframe pretty well.

It’s definitely a book I’d recommend either listening to or actually honest to goodness reading out of an actual physical book. I know when it ends, I won’t be ready and will be a bit sad for a day or so. Then I will start my next grand audio adventure.

God Speaking

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I always pray for God to speak to me. I usually follow up with something like “and give me ears to hear when You are speaking.”

I can’t say that I’m one of those who has ever heard God speaking audibly. Typically, I can’t say I’m very good at discerning God’s voice. I usually have too many other noises and voices in my head.

Other times, I’ll see a social media post that just so happens to hit me square in the feels. It will be something that speaks specifically to me in the moment.

The above meme is an example of me reading a meme or a post that stops me dead in my tracks because it’s so accurate to where I am in my current situation. Then I wonder if it could possibly be one of the ways God speaks to me.

I wonder if I limit my ability to hear from God by limiting the ways He can speak to me. Obviously, the primary way God speaks is through His revealed Word, but I think God can communicate through other ways as well.

I also wonder if I took something as just a really neat coincidence when it was actually God’s way of speaking to me. Like one of those timely posts or snippets from a sermon. Or maybe it was a line from a song or a movie.

I wish I could remember how C. S. Lewis put it. He said that sometimes we’re too busy banging on the door to God’s throne to hear from Him. We’re too anxious and occupied with our pleading to be still enough to listen.

I think sometimes the prayer goes like this: “Lord, calm my mind enough to hear from You. Still all other voices so I know it’s You. Give me enough sense to recognize You speaking when I ask You to speak. And help me really to hear and obey what You tell me. Amen.”

Spoiler: God Wins

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“… just slipping a note to those in the thick of it who really need to know right now how this all works out, how today ends, how this week ends, how this whole shebang ends:

SPOILER: GOD WINS” (Ann Voskamp).

“No doubt about it! God is good—
    good to good people, good to the good-hearted.
But I nearly missed it,
    missed seeing his goodness.
I was looking the other way,
    looking up to the people
At the top,
    envying the wicked who have it made,
Who have nothing to worry about,
    not a care in the whole wide world.

Pretentious with arrogance,
    they wear the latest fashions in violence,
Pampered and overfed,
    decked out in silk bows of silliness.
They jeer, using words to kill;
    they bully their way with words.
They’re full of hot air,
    loudmouths disturbing the peace.
People actually listen to them—can you believe it?
    Like thirsty puppies, they lap up their words.

What’s going on here? Is God out to lunch?
    Nobody’s tending the store.
The wicked get by with everything;
    they have it made, piling up riches.
I’ve been stupid to play by the rules;
    what has it gotten me?
A long run of bad luck, that’s what—
    a slap in the face every time I walk out the door.

If I’d have given in and talked like this,
    I would have betrayed your dear children.
Still, when I tried to figure it out,
    all I got was a splitting headache . . .
Until I entered the sanctuary of God.
    Then I saw the whole picture:
The slippery road you’ve put them on,
    with a final crash in a ditch of delusions.
In the blink of an eye, disaster!
    A blind curve in the dark, and—nightmare!
We wake up and rub our eyes. . . . Nothing.
    There’s nothing to them. And there never was” (Psalm 73:1-20, The Message).

It’s easy to lose sight of the end when you’re stuck in the middle. When evil seems to rule the day, it’s hard to believe that God can ever set things right. It’s tempting to fall into a cynical view of “Well, that’s it. We’re done for. There’s no hope left.”

But just as Billy Graham said, I’ve read the last page of the Bible and I know it’s going to be fine in the end. Actually, more than just fine. It will be better than the happiest ending in the best book you’ve ever read. It will be like in the last book in the Narnia series where all that happened before was merely the title page and prologue, but heaven is where the real story starts and where each chapter is better than the one before.

The Bible says for those who are in Christ that whatever the worst that we can face is light and momentary compared to the joy that’s coming. Read that again. The absolute worst we can imagine ever facing is light and momentary compared to the joy that awaits.

Not that what we face isn’t very real and very scary and very awful. But the joy ahead is infinitely greater and longer and lasting. It will be like the joy of a new mother holding her child after the pain of delivery, knowing it was way more than worth it.

It will be way more than worth it when we get there.

Feeling Something

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“It is quite right that you should feel that ‘something terrific’ has happened to you (It has) and be ‘all glowy.’ Accept these sensations with thankfulness as birthday cards from God, but remember that they are only greetings, not the real gift. I mean, it is not the sensations that are the real thing. The real thing is the gift of the Holy Spirit which can’t usually be—perhaps not ever—experienced as a sensation or emotion. The sensations are merely the response of your nervous system. Don’t depend on them. Otherwise when they go and you are once more emotionally flat (as you certainly will be quite soon), you might think that the real thing had gone too. But it won’t. It will be there when you can’t feel it. May even be most operative when you can feel it least” (Collected Letters of C.S. Lewis Volume III, C.S. Lewis).

The problem with a faith based on feelings is that those feelings are fickle and subject to change. I mean, have you ever tried to sustain a single emotion over a 24-hour period? You can’t. You can’t make yourself feel anything indefinitely.

Also, I’ve learned that feelings can lie. What you feel at any moment can stem from something you ate yesterday that didn’t agree with you. I’ve noticed I might trend more toward negative emotions when I am tired or hungry or bored. Typically, I can’t trust what I’m feeling when I haven’t slept well the night before. I especially have learned from experience not to post any social media or respond to any social media or emails late at night. A good night’s sleep and some time have a way of miraculously changing my attitude and perspective.

But the life of faith does have an emotional component to it. You just don’t put feelings in front. That’s where faith comes in. Feelings should be the caboose of your spiritual journey, present but not leading the way.

God is real even when I don’t feel Him. God’s promises are true even when I can’t see them. Obedience is acting in loving ways even when I don’t feel loving and following God’s commands when I don’t want to.

I’ve always loved the idea that my security as a believer doesn’t depend on how tightly I hold God’s hand but how He won’t ever let go of me.

Telling Stories

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“Child,’ said the Lion, ‘I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own” (C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy).

I’m beginning to understand that we all have different stories. We also have different seasons and struggles. I am in the middle of a career transition. I overheard where someone else has a parent dealing with a cancer diagnosis. Yet someone else I know has struggled within the past year with mental health issues.

Each story is different. Each struggle is unique. It’s no good for me to compare my story with someone else’s and to either think that mine doesn’t matter because it’s not a potentially terminal diagnosis or that I have it way worse because someone else might have an ingrown toenail.

The Bible doesn’t say God never gives us more than we can handle. Often, it’s way beyond our capacity to bear so that we are forced to lean in on the Lord for daily strength. He does give us grace equal to the struggle. He does promise to be with us in each season.

In each story, the testimony is that God is able. I am in as much need of God’s continual grace and strength as anyone else alive right now on this planet. My need is no more or less than theirs. And my God is equally up to the task.

That’s the beauty of intercessory prayer. I enter into your story and you enter into mine. We share each others burdens and magnify the name of Jesus equally. Sometimes, we can speak words when the other has none or believe for the other when they can’t find the faith at the moment.

The best part is that God is always the hero of our stories and we can rest assured that in every case we know that God works all things together for good and for a happy ending.

The Soliloquy of Prayer

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They tell me, Lord, that when I seem
To be in speech with you,
Since but one voice is heard, it’s all a dream,
One talker aping two.

Sometimes it is, yet not as they
Conceive it. Rather, I
Seek in myself the things I hoped to say,
But lo!, my wells are dry.

Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The listener’s role and through
My dumb lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew

And thus you neither need reply
Nor can; thus, while we seem
Two talkers, though are One forever, and I
No dreamer, but thy dream” (Unknown, quoted in Letters to Malcolm by C. S. Lewis).

That’s how prayer works for me. Sometimes, I feel like I’m talking to the ceiling. My words can’t possibly be reaching God’s ears, and if they are, He doesn’t seem to hear. But then I remember that God is not just in some faraway heaven beyond all time and space. He’s in the room with me.

Other times, my prayers seem to come from somewhere else. I find myself praying words the same way an actor speaks lines written by another. It’s as if God Himself is giving me the very words to speak to Him the desires of my heart.

Often, I will rattle off a list of my own requests and desires and then give God no time to reply. Even then, I think He hears the heart cry behind the list. He is way more patient with me than I am with Him most of the time.

On occasion, I won’t even be able to speak. Either through grief or fear, I can’t find the words. In those moments, the Holy Spirit and Jesus intercede for me in those groanings too deep for words.

Whatever the case, I am never alone. If there is but one voice speaking, it’s not mine, but God praying through me to God who hears and honors the request. Not God in the sense of me and all things are a part of God, but God as holy and totally other who still dwells in me and makes Himself known to me. That God.

Looking for the Living Among the Dead

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“They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this. Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there. The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship. The men said, ‘Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up'” (Luke 24:5-6, The Message).

I heard an interesting definition of the word amazed that was used in another translation of this passage. Basically, the women had no category for what they’d just witnessed. They had arrived with spices and other essentials needed for finishing up the burial preparations for Jesus, only to find no Jesus.

Sure, they had seen Jesus raise other people from the dead. They had also heard Jesus’ own words about being handed over to sinful men, crucified, and being raised again. But those words seemed hollow against the reality of Jesus being dead.

Easter is nothing without a physical resurrection. If Jesus is only alive in our hearts, we might as well give up on the whole church thing and do whatever we want and live however we feel like. If Jesus is actually still in that tomb, then there’s no real hope and no real future.

So many other religions claim to offer a way of life and salvation, but all their leaders are truly dead and buried. Only Christianity can offer eyewitness accounts to a risen and living Lord. Only Christianity has a God who knows the way out of the grave.

That’s why Jesus could truthfully proclaim that He was the only way, truth, and life, and that we could only come to the Father through Him. He’s the only one still living to show us the way — to be the way. He’s the only one who actually took our place and paid for our sins.

The resurrection is the final validation of the truth of Jesus’ life and words. Based on what He said, He couldn’t just be a good man or a wise teacher. He’d have to be a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. Those are the only options.

The empty tomb and the risen Jesus show that He is Lord of all.