“it would seem that our lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. we are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. we are far too easily pleased.” c.s. lewis, the weight of glory
i understand the encouragement up and out of ignorance from clive, but i’m starting to wonder if mud pies aren’t our lot.
we stay close to the dirt because we are dirt, and to it we return.
what god accomplishes looks nothing like what we accomplish.
he’s high above. he is the holiday at the sea. he holds the brilliant plan we could not have guessed.
we sit at the edge of mud puddles and jesus comes and joins us at the puddle’s edge.
what you want is for me to stay. you want me to remain with you at the mud, lord.
and yes, i think i can see it.
i see the ocean there back over your shoulder when i lift my eyes to look into your face.