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The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis (Thoughts on)

The Problem of PainThe Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis

Today the rain is pouring outside of my window. Water stains the glass I look through and leaves and branches quiver in the wind. Do I ever see clearly? Do I ever see life itself, life on its own terms, life for what it is? Or do I always see “through a glass darkly” and “in a mirror dimly”? Is my vision always blurred by these stains, these watermarks on the periphery of my vision?

No. I remember days where sunlight struck a sharp contrast on tree and stone. I remember blades of grass flowing in the wind. I remember seeing face to face. I remember not worrying. I remember trusting the other. I remember deep peace of the water, deep peace of the river. I remember joy and laughter. I remember hope.

Even on these wet and gloomy days, I know that spring must come again. The flowers will bloom, the trees will take on their leaves, the sky will clear, the sun will show its face again. The birds will sing and I will step lightly once again. Until then, I wait in patience and in hope.

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I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear
This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.

Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year nor want of rain destroy the peas

This year time’s nature will no more defeat you
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.

This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn one year older by the well worn track.

This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.

Often deceived, yet open once again your heart.
Quick quick, quick, quick – the gates are drawn apart.

C.S. Lewis

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