My Favorite Ending

“And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before” (C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle).

That’s what I think heaven will be like. It won’t be the same old same old. It will keep getting better. We won’t just sing the same old songs about God. I believe that there’s so much to learn about an infinite God that we will still be learning new attributes to His character and singing new songs throughout eternity.

Sometimes I envy those who have gone to glory because their faith has now been made sight. They behold with their eyes what they had prayed about and sang about and wrote about and longed for with all their might. I know for me it’s just up the road and around the bend a bit. Whatever happens from here, heaven will be so amazing that whatever I go through to get there will have been worth it.

And Jesus will be there. As much as I long to see those I love who have gone before me, none comes close to the longing in my heart to behold my Savior face to face and hopefully hear the words “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

So Close

Every year, I dutifully fill in my brackets for the NCAA men’s college basketball tournament held around this time every year. Usually, I fill in quite a few — some serious, some off-the-wall, some in-between. Usually by this point, all my brackets are toast, and I’m hoping for some Cinderella team to pull off the improbable win.

This year, there were no Cinderella teams. No double-digit seeds that got to the Final Four. No underdogs tugging at everyone’s heartstrings. It was the usual top seeds that made it to the end. That made it a little less exciting for the games, but a little more helpful for the brackets.

One bracket was shaping up nicely. I had correctly picked all 8 of the Elite Eight teams, all 4 of the Final Four teams, and was one down, one to go for the Championship round. If it had all gone to plan, this would have been my best bracket ever.

Unfortunately, it did not go to plan. One of the teams I picked to advance, Duke, was actually leading up until the final few minutes. The other team, Houston, made an improbable comeback and won the game, dashing my bracket once and for all.

That’s life. At least a lot of life is like that. You almost get that one thing you really want, but not quite. You get the marriage or the house or the car, and it’s every bit of what you dreamed it would be — almost. It’s like we have desires that nothing in this world can quite satisfy.

C. S. Lewis said that if we have those desires that can’t be gratified by anything in this world, it means we were made for another world. Anything this side of heaven is only a type and a shadow of the real thing in heaven. Our ultimate longing and desire can only be found in God.

Of course, some of the things I really thought I wanted or needed to have I didn’t get because God knew better. Some of the kindest words God ever says to me are Him telling me no to a request that if I got what I asked for would destroy me. At least it would not be good for me. Also, I can’t really ask God to give me anything outside of Himself that’s as good as God, because that thing or person doesn’t exist. I think C. S. Lewis said that, too.

Anyway, I’m already looking forward to filling out multiple brackets in 2026 and hoping for that one miracle bracket. My golden ticket, if you will. I suppose I can dream, can’t I?

Homesick for God?

“How many people have you made homesick for God?” (Oswald Chambers, Disciples Indeed)

That’s the key to evangelism, I think. It’s not constantly reminding people how sinful they are or ridiculing their worldview. I think in that approach we forget that we too were once sinful and had wrong beliefs about the universe.

What was it that won you over? What was it that made you want to know and love God? Was it really someone telling you what an awful person you were? Was it someone constantly berating your beliefs?

I think the key is to make people long for God to the point where they’re homesick for God. I think people seeing you loving God and living out of the overflow of God’s love for you will want to know God. People who see you loving others well the way God loved you well will crave that kind of love, even if they don’t have a name for it.

The way the early Church drew people was in how those believers loved each other. They loved lost people as well, but mainly it was in their love for each other that made people want to hear their gospel message.

If all you have is a well-defined set of doctrines and beliefs, no one cares. If all you have is a passion for making people as moral as you are, then no one wants to hear about it. But when you live transformed and let the life of Christ in you permeate everything you do, then people can’t help but see and be drawn to what they don’t have.

The key is to make people homesick for a home they’ve never known but want to go to more than anything or anywhere else. Make them homesick for God.

More Lucy Memories

Lost in all the hoopla about the solar eclipse, Monday, August 21, marked two months since my Lucy crossed the rainbow bridge. While I have Peanut, my lovable and playful kitten to heal my heart, I still find myself at times missing the old gal fiercely.

Tonight, I stood at the railing overlooking the stairs. I remembered how Lucy used to look up from the bottom, see me, and come running up the stairs to me. Every single time. Even when she was older and couldn’t run as well, she still willed herself to run to me, greeting me with her friendly chatter.

I remember how when I got home and found her in one of her usual napping spots, the first thing she did when she saw me was let out the hugest yawn ever. I believe it wasn’t because she found me incredibly boring but rather because she was completely relaxed and at ease with me.

I’m finding out these days that it’s possible to carry around two conflicting and completely opposite emotions at the same time. For me, it’s joy and grief, peace and longing. Sometimes, it’s hard to know where the one ends and the other begins.

It’s another reminder of the “now and not yet.” Sure, there’s good to be found here and we can have the peace of Christ, but we wait the perfect consummation of all our hopes and joys. We know that we were made for another and better world — heaven– and we have a longing and a desire that nothing earthly can satisfy.

I do wish that rainbow bridge had visiting hours. I’d go see my Lucy every chance I got. I bet she’d come running up to me and greet me with that ginormous yawn of hers. I would expect nothing less.

The Ultimate Longing 

“For all my wanting, I don’t have anyone but You in heaven. There is nothing on earth that I desire other than You. I admit how broken I am in body and spirit, but God is my strength, and He will be mine forever” (Psalm 73:25-26 VOICE).

Ultimately, that’s it. No matter how you are at the moment or how well you think you’re doing, the real victory is living out of God’s strength instead of your own.

Every desire of mine, whether I acknowledge it or not, finds its ultimate fulfillment in God.

I see more now that all those unfulfilled desires and unrequited dreams really all were longings for what only God could grant.

Even when I got exactly what I thought I wanted at the time, it always turned out to be less than satisfactory because a thing can never deliver the true joy and happiness that God can.

That’s my prayer for you– that you understand more deeply that when a longing is denied or a dream gets dashed to pieces, that the deepest yearnings at the heart of those desires are all rooted in the person of Jesus.

May you find that God is more satisfying and gratifying than anything and everything this whole world has to offer. You find true contentment when you finally grasp that God Himself with nothing else added is enough.

That’s what Lent is truly about– abstaining from good things to find joy in the best things and making room in your heart and soul for God to speak and breathe and inhabit.

I’ve managed to make it through one whole day without any social media and I live to tell the tale (even if there was a little bit of withdrawal). If I can do it, I know you can.

 

 

Something That Spoke to Me

I read this yesterday and I’m still thinking about it. It’s what C. S. Lewis wrote after his wife died after battling cancer. What spoke to me so much wasn’t as much the grief (although I have known that all too well), but the part of not being able to hear God speak to you because you’re too frantic to listen. We’ve all at some point been stressed and overwhelmed to the point where we can’t hear what anybody else is saying to us, much less God.

Here’s what he said:

“Why has no one told me these things? How easily I might have misjudged another man in the same situation? I might have said, ‘He’s got over it. He’s forgotten his wife,’ when the truth was, ‘He remembers her better because he has partly got over it.’

Such was the fact. And I believe I can make sense out of it. You can’t see anything properly while your eyes are blurred with tears. You can’t, in most things, get what you want if you want it too desperately: anyway, you can’t get the best out of it. ‘Now! Let’s have a real good talk’ reduces everyone to silence. ‘I must get a good sleep tonight’ ushers in hours of wakefulness. Delicious drinks are wasted on a really ravenous thirst. Is it similarly the very intensity of the longing that draws the iron curtain, that makes us feel we are staring into a vacuum when we think about our dead? ‘Them as asks’ (at any rate ‘as asks too importunately’) don’t get. Perhaps can’t.

And so, perhaps, with God. I have gradually been coming to feel that the door is no longer shut and bolted. Was it my own frantic need that slammed it in my face? The time when there is nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just the time when God can’t give it: you are like the drowning man who can’t be helped because he clutches and grabs. Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear.”

That Longing Inside

till we have faces

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back” (C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces).

It’s that longing. If you watch TV at all, you are led to believe that you can fill that longing with a new car or a new kitchen appliance. Or maybe if you drink the right beer or wear the right kind of sweaters. Just about anything and everything from fast food to cologne to mattresses will satisfy that deepest of longings inside of us, or so we’re told.

I think all of us have deep longings that nothing we do or buy or acquire can ever truly satisfy. For most of us, we’re unable to even name what that longing is or even pinpoint what it is that we truly desire.

That C. S. Lewis guy also said that if we have longings that nothing in this world can satisfy, then it means that we were created for another world. I think he was on to something.

I personally find myself longing more and more for a world I’ve never seen before, but one that I have dreamed about. I imagine it will look a whole lot like Mr. Lewis’ Narnia, especially the one described in toward the end of his book, The Last Battle.

“Death opens a door out of a little, dark room (that’s all the life we have known before it) into a great, real place where the true sun shines and we shall meet” (C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces).

 

 

Conflicted But in a Good Way . . .

I’m feeling a bit conflicted at the moment, but in the best way possible. Right now, you’re probably feeling confused, so let me explain.

I’m very sad that a friend of mine is leaving for overseas missions tomorrow and I won’t get to see her for a while, but I’m filled with joy that she is fulfilling God’s call on her life and going to a place where her deep gladness will meet the world’s deep need and lives will be transformed and changed and a country will never be the same because of her (and I “borrowed” part of that from Frederick Buechner, for the record).

I’m unsure of my next step, but confident that the God I serve is more than able to get me there. Since I lost my job, I’ve felt as if I’m free-floating without an anchor to hold on to or to keep me centered, yet I’ve never had more peace that God really is in control and guiding me toward exactly where He wants me to be.

I’ve never been in a place where I’m more keenly aware of my deep need for God at every waking moment, but I’ve never been more sure of God’s goodness or power. I’ve never been as able and willing to boast in my weaknesses to find that the power of Christ really is made perfect in my imperfections.

Ultimately, I am filled with a longing that nothing in this world can satisfy, yet at the very same time,  I am completely satisfied in Christ and content with where He has me.

What about you?