There is a danger in feeling that you have "arrived". This danger lies in the fact it very probably means that you still have a long way to go. It is deceptive. There is also a very imminent danger in living your faith as though you have God figured out. It probably means that he is about to expose you to the infinite plane of his character. I long so much to be like Lucy, who ventures into Narnia wide-eyed and confident believing even in this unknown world there is One who is sovereign. But more often than not I am like Susan. I hem and haw. I peer back through the trees wondering if I made the right decision, scared to venture into new worlds that I can't control or predict.

I love this scene from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe

"...Aslan is a lion--the Lion, the great Lion."

"Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he--quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion."

"That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs. Beaver, "if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly."

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe?'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King I tell you."

He is the King. And he is the King of my life who is good. Good beyond my wildest dreams or imagination. The Bible tells us this very thing. He is the God who does more than we can ask or imagine. I think he delights in doing things that we can't imagine because it stretches us and causes us to use the imaginations he gave us. What's the point in having a safe God who we can predict and imagine? Who could have imagined the good news of the cross? That God would come down himself and die for our sins?

I think Susan would not have been so terrified if she understood Aslan's heart more deeply. In confidence of his goodness she would have ventured forth with the faith of a child and enjoyed her walk through Narnia. So as I sit on the edge of a chapter of my life, I want be brave and walk through the doors of the wardrobe intrepidly. There's only grace!

Images, I must suppose, have their use or they would not have been so popular. (It makes little difference whether they are pictures or statues outside the mind or imaginative constructions within it.) To me, however, their danger is more obvious. Images of the Holy easily become holy images – sacrosanct. My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it himself. He is the great iconoclast. Could we not almost say that this shattering is one of the marks of his presence? The incarnation is the supreme example; it leaves all previous ideas of the Messiah in ruins. And most are ‘offended’ by the iconoclasm; and blessed are those who are not. - C. S. Lewis

God, in the end, gives people what they most want, including freedom from himself. What could be more fair?-C. S. Lewis

I have a theory that God means nothing to those who feel they do not need him. This is not to say that God only exists for those who need him, as if the idea of "God" is some abstract concept that we offer the hurting and poor. No, I simply mean that the poor in heart seek God because they realize nothing else in this world can satisfy them. Because they seek God, he reveals himself to them ("Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you." James 4:8a).

Pain is often the driving force that compels someone to run to God. Like a cattle herder, pain eliminates every other outlet for comfort until the person enduring it has only one vision-- the Lord.

I have never encountered anyone who has at one point or another, has not conversed with God during pain (let me just say that I am sure they exist, but none have crossed my path so far). But everyone has some kind of dialogue with God when they are in emotional and spiritual pain. These are some of the types:

I have met people who when have their belief in God shaken during pain: "Doesn't God love me? Why is he doing this? What did I ever do to deserve this?" (And to scratch the surface of those heart questions I would direct you to the book of Job in the Bible).
Some people just get angry. I have met people who are proclaimed atheists because believing in God means believing in a God who allows pain. These people feel the need to get back at God for letting this happen by shunning his existence.
And then there are those who feel no other option than to run to him.

The Bible says that we should count it joy when we face trials of various kinds (James 1:2). And it is my belief that God knows this pattern of the human heart which is why he allows trials to happen. He desires that those whom he ransomed with the blood of his precious Son should know him in a deep and intimate way-- even if that means through pain and suffering. He cares about our joy more than anyone in creation, which is why he leads us through valleys to get there.

There are so many analogies I could use to describe this, but one that comes to mind is walking up a hill just before sunrise. It's wet and dewey. What light does illuminate the sky has not reached you because you are behind a steep and jagged hill. Your muscles ache and groan. Maybe you haven't had coffee. But as you get to the top, you see it. The light reveals all that lay below. The pain in your legs dissipates as your eyes are consumed with the explosion of light and joy you feel when you see all that lay below. That's what God wants for you. An explosion of joy in your life.

This is the point in this blog that I realize I have taken on too great a topic for one post. But let me say this: I have experienced pain. Maybe my pain is shallow compared to some of the deeper wounds that many other people hold. I will never know how my pain compares to anyone else's because I alone feel it the way I do. Every pain is unique. I will allow that I might not be the best qualified person to write this blog. But I still believe it's true.

For these reasons, I pray for brokenness in the lives of those I love. In some ways I think it's the kindest thing God can do: reveal himself to you. All joys are nothing compared to knowing Jesus (Philippians 3:8). It is loving to pray for brokenness in the hearts of those who do not know God. Not because you wish pain on the ones you love or because it brings you pleasure, but because your mind has been transformed. You now long for their greater joy-- the joy that comes from knowing and loving Jesus.

I am sure that if anyone makes it this far through this blog, they will have a lot of objections. This probably isn't a popular belief. But it's okay. I believe that it is true. I leave you with these verses:

" The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."- Psalm 34:18

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." Psalm 51:17