Self

Meanwhile, where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms. When you are happy, so happy that you hae no sense of needing Him, so happy that you are tempted to feel His claims upon you as an interruption, if you remember yourself and turn to Him with gratitude and praise, you will be---or so it feels---welcomed with open arms. But go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence. You may as well turn away. The longer you wait, the more emphatic that silence will become. There are no lights in the windows. It might be an empty house. Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean? Why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble?

I tried to put some thoughts to C. this afternoon. He reminded me that the same thing seems to have happened to Christ: 'Why hast thou forsaken me?' I know. Does that make it easier to understand?

-C.S. Lewis: A Grief Observed

Almost frightfully accurate. I cannot relate with the grief that Jack had to go through regarding his wife, but there is something unsettling about his excerpt on the relationship with God in the middle of happiness. I did find myself giving thanks to God for my newfound happiness in the girl that was my first love, but at the same time, that joy did at times relate to God's claim on me as an interruption. It was a temptation that reared its head many times, and in my poorer days, I felt the need to tell Him that I was happy enough with my earthly life with my earthly friends, challenges, and rewards. As the relationship began to fail, I began to focus more on her rather than my relationship with God. The relationship with her ended. I turned to knock on His door and found comfort. I found comfort in the theology of Lewis and in going to Mass back at St. Jude. However, when despair would set in during the worst of the days of the breakup, He wasn't anywhere to be found.

Well, that's what I told myself. Truth is, I wasn't quite looking for Him during the hard times. I ignored calls to happiness because I was determined in the fact that I had lost the most rewarding aspect of my earthly life. I still feel that way on occasion. In an effort to feel more independent, I would put on a sarcastic, sometimes detached demeanor to people I interacted with. Whether it's the result of the pain or it's a way of lashing out, it's something that I'm working to eliminate in an effort to be above such selfish responses. I've discovered that in my self-pity and unwillingness to experience true joy again, I have locked God out of my house. I have slammed the door and double bolted it. He calls and I hesitate to answer.

I had it right in the past. I must stop concerning myself with convenience; with an earthly life. Easier said than done. May this be a reminder to myself to inch towards a better, more selfless life, one day after another.