October 22, 2008

• Some pleasant inns

  In “The Problem of Pain,” C.
  S. Lewis writes, “The Christian doctrine of suffering explains, I
  believe, a very curious fact about the world we live in. The settled
  happiness and security which we all desire, God withholds from us by
  the very nature of the world; but joy, pleasure and merriment, he has
  scattered broadcast. We are never safe, but we have plenty of fun, and
  some ecstasy. It is not hard to see why. The security we crave would
  teach us to rest our hearts in this world and oppose an obstacle to our
  return to God; a few moments of happy love, a landscape, a symphony, a
  merry meeting with our friends, a swim or a football match, have no
  such tendency. Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some
  pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.”
  

  

  This
  lesson, like so many bright diamonds of truth mined by Lewis’ searching
  heart and sharp intellect, is one that twinkles in my mind and lights
  up cloudy places in my own understanding of how God’s love works in our
  lives.
  Our Father provides pleasant inns for his pilgrim children as
  we travel, but doesn't mean for us to mistake them for home. Our
  pleasant inns differ. For some of us, our pleasant inn might be the
  haven of a loving marriage. For others, our close relationship with our
  children, or a deep intimacy with our friends. For others, sports, or a
  challenging vocation, or travel might provide pleasant inns, places
  where we can rest and be refreshed on our journey.
  It's our nature
  to seek “settled happiness and security.” We are drawn toward it like
  birds are compelled by instinct to make nests for themselves, like
  puppies just naturally pile up together to keep warm on a cold day.
  But Lewis says our wise Father withholds this settled happiness and security from us. Haven’t we all found this to be true?
  

  

  Just
  when we can finally see what we long for in the distance, we move
  forward to grasp it — and like the pot of gold at the end of the
  rainbow, that settled happiness and security moves back a little
  farther, remaining forever just a little out of our reach.

  Lewis
  tells us, like the wise professor that he was, that the reason God does
  things this way is that if we ever really reached the security that we
  crave, we’d “rest our hearts in this world” instead of continuing on
  our pilgrimage to our true home that’s not of this world.
  God made
  His children to be in this world, but not of it, and we must always
  remember that we’re just passing through on our way to the Promised
  Land. All of the sweet things that speak to us of security in this life
  — marriage, financial stability, good health, a supportive family, a
  loving home — as wonderful as they are, cannot protect us, cannot
  shelter us, cannot shield us from the storms of life.
  

  

  But our loving
  Father doesn’t just leave us wandering in a dark and lonely land. He
  showers us with joy along the way. In the Psalms, He tells us, “See,
  you lowly ones, and be glad; you who seek God, may your hearts be
  merry!”
  Lewis says we are never safe, but we do have plenty of fun,
  and some ecstasy. Haven’t you found that to be true? I have. I’ve never
  felt bedrock safe — as much as I’ve longed for lasting safety and
  security — but I’ve had lots of fun and laughter, and many, many
  moments of joy sprinkled throughout the shifting-sand insecurity of
  life.
  God showers us with those golden twinkles of joy and fun,
  because, like the old professor says, those sparkling, fleeting moments
  have no tendency to make us rest our hearts in this world, any more
  than we could build a house on a falling star or wrap ourselves up in a
  rainbow.
  Our Father has refreshed me on my journey with many
  pleasant inns, but has always drawn me up short when I begin to mistake
  them for home.
  And maybe — when I finally begin to learn the lesson
  that it’s a mistake to set my heart too deeply on anything in this
  world — I’ll be able to even more fully appreciate the pleasant inns He
  lets me rest in for a little while as He leads me on my way home.

  (ED. NOTE: An earlier version of this column was first published in the Macon Beacon, Macon, Miss.)
  By Celia DeWoody
  Harrison Daily Times, Harrison, Ark.
  Oct. 22, 2008
  
   

  
  

  • 7:10 pm
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