He Is The Answer
A friend sent me a copy of the CS Lewis book Till We Have Faces, which I read over the last week or so. It is a retelling of the Greek myth of Psyche and Cupid from the perspective of Orual, one of Psyche’s older sisters. In the original tale, Queen Orual is jealous and evil, but Lewis set up his telling from the perspective of the Queen. She is the narrator, and the story is- in a very Greek manner- her defense.
As I read, I began to see parts of myself in the Queen, which Lewis intended for the reader. I indentified with her lack of self-worth and desire to well by people, to hide her ugliness and inner complications even from those closest to her. As the story unfurls we see the unresolved questions and unhealed wounds direct the Queen, even in her best intentions.
In vain, she accuses the gods of playing humanity for fools, of staying hidden, and speaking in riddles. In this attempt she is brought before a celestial court, before the dead and holy, to make her case. It is only then does she understand the existence of the Divine Nature and its true spirit. The pettiness of people, our held fears, and mortal gods are a distraction to the greater.
In my view the story climaxes on the last page when the Queen confesses her most true revelation:
“I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?”
As I read those words, my heart burst and I sobbed into my hands. I lack the vocabulary- if it exists- to describe what I experienced. It was a folding of joy, smallness, connection, pursued, and holy protection in to one sacred moment. I felt loved, by the great Love.
This morning, I blubbered my way up and down the trail on my walk. Thankfully only a few of the usual regulars where out, so I cared less about the bumbling sloppiness of my prayer. If You are the answer, then I am the question. Is it that simple Lord? Is what you want from me so easy? Am I, in my simplest form, enough for you? Yes. I love you, all of you, and all of them. My desire never changed. From the time of Adam, my desire is to walk with you, and love you, and commune with you. You are forever worthy in my eyes.
The pure and simple heart of our Father remains as it always was, in love with his kids. Not hidden, but true. Not angry or pissed off, but forever hoping, guiding, and kind. It is I who put road blocks and hurdles between us. It was I who tried to conform to a human standard of respectability.
It was I who separated myself from Him, held my fears and hurts. And yet, He did not turn away. His love for me is real and alive. It is what my heart most wants, to commune with and be know my God our Father. The irony is, I’ve know this since my youngest age, but I could not bare to live it for fear.
(I wasn’t able to believe I was worthy of something so grand and wonderful, but I wanted to believe it. It’s why the title of the top of this blog is Walking in the Garden, a reference to my favorite hymn:
I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet
The birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He give to me
Within my heart is to ringing.And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.I stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me is falling.
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.)
This is the Jesus I wanted from the beginning, something beyond reason or grand expectation, or accomplishment. What I did not know then, the truth now washing over my intellect and emotional heart, is how much I mean to Him.
I feel like I am dying and being reborn. And now, instead of a bitter and shame filled identity, I see myself in Paul’s poetic admission to the Galatians:
“I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn’t work.
So I quit being a “law man” so that I could be God’s man. Christ’s life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ.
My ego is no longer central.
It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.”
I feel like this post is a bit rambling and disjointed. Practically all of my posts are rough drafts, but I still glance over them so they are somewhat readable. I’m going to leave it unedited. It shows the illogical nature of what’s happening in my life. And though I may want to be become a better writer, I will not edit out the goodness God is pouring out in on me.
