Following the Signs

I love that my kids are old enough to listen to (and actually request!) chapter books.  Right now, we're reading through The Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis, some of my favorite books in the entire world.  Lewis had quite a knack for succinctly and profoundly writing deep truths in a way that invites even young children into spiritual realities... of course through the language of children: fairytales.

One such truth, which even this sort-of-grown-up-kid needs to remember daily is imparted by Puddleglum, the marshwiggle in The Silver Chair.

‘Oh, if only we knew!’, said Jill.
‘I think we do know,’ said Puddleglum.
‘Do you mean you think everything will come right if we do untie him?’ said Scrubb.
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Puddleglum, ‘You see, Aslan didn’t tell Pole what would happen. He only told her what to do.’ (italics mine)

I'd say that pretty much sums up where I am right now.  Just when things seem to be leveling out, we end up in the valley again.  And I struggle in the valley, because hasn't the Church, or at least the evangelical church (not hating here, just pointing out a pattern), always taught that obedience brings blessing?  That when you serve others with your whole heart or sacrifice for another, it blesses you abundantly more than it could ever bless them?  I'm not disagreeing with those statements, because I have experienced those very sentiments as well.  But truly, when was the last time you heard a sermon on counting the cost of obedience?  At least in a western church?  I think the American church is largely afraid to tell people what the cost of following Christ could look like, because they're afraid people won't do it.  We do like our comfort, don't we?  

The truth is, God can accomplish his sovereign will with or without us.  Inviting us (or commanding us) to be a part of it is indeed so that we can experience the blessing of being part of what He is doing.  But it's also for our sanctification, and daggumit, fire hurts.  Often, in all the PR of the "go and make disciples" sermons, we gloss over the fact that obedience is hard, it rarely looks the way we expect, and we may or may not experience the warm fuzzies for a good long time, if ever.  We have our own ideas about what our "blessings" will look like as a result of our obedience.  Because, let's be honest, our society is a results-driven one.  It can feel both relieving and alarming to let go of what we think should come out of all this hard work and investment of our time, our finances... our lives.  But then, Jesus didn't tell us exactly what would happen when we pick up our crosses and follow him.  He did say we would have trouble.  He also said, "Take heart, for I have overcome the world."  

And there it is: the result, the reward... HE is the reward.  Right here, right now, in the middle of the doggedly-trudging-through-the-muddy-trenches ick, I am wholly his, and He is mine.  

Sanctification.

He is making me look more like him.  He's causing me to lean on him instead of my own understanding.  He's reminding me to press into his strength when I want to collapse right in the middle of the path.  He is offering his new compassion every morning when my heart and soul feel bone dry.  I am my Beloved's and He is mine.  His banner over me is love.

You may not be in the adoption trenches, but whatever your journey of sanctification, let me leave you with this strange mercy as you face the darkness:

"Courage friends... whether we live or die, Aslan will be our good lord."