I am a huge fan
of CS Lewis, the Christian apologetics writer – I even consider myself an
armchair-expert as I’ve read almost everything that he has written. Beyond The Chronicles of Narnia and The Space Trilogy, Lewis wrote literary
criticism as well as deeply literary works like Till We Have Faces (a retelling of the myth of Psyche and Cupid).
He also wrote
about pain and loss. The Problem of Pain (“in which he seeks to provide an
intellectual Christian response to questions about suffering”) was written in
1940, long before he experienced the deepest of pains and loss – his wife
(albeit briefly – a civil marriage in 1956 (they lived apart and it kept her
and her sons from being kicked out of England when their visas expired) and a
Christian marriage a year later) died of breast cancer that had metastasized
into bone cancer in 1960 and he wrote the book, A Grief Observed from four notebooks he’d kept while Joy was dying,
in 1961, publishing it anonymously.
I realize now
that I have been wallowing in grief ever since the initial diagnosis. I have
turned away from God. I have gorged myself until I was fatter than I had ever
been in my life. The reconstructive surgery didn’t help – I felt a deep guilt
at her getting it – and suffering – “for my sake”.
As I said, I am
a fan of CS Lewis. I have tried reading the Bible and have repeatedly failed.
I only
discovered a few moments ago that Joy Davidman not only died because of
undiagnosed breast cancer, she died from metastatic bone cancer. Lewis knew all
this; suffered all of this – and yet took his anger out, took his suffering
out, wrote out his pain…so that people like me could BENEFIT from his own
suffering. It is NOT the same suffering that his wife went through. Mine is NOT
the same suffering that my wife has gone through.
It is as
different as puppies and oranges.
Yet it is
related on a deeper level. While oranges are fruit of plants and puppies are
young of dogs, both carry the future of the species. Both spring from DNA.
Different but related.
While my wife
has dealt with her suffering and grief, I have not. I have let it fester and
stink and grow until I feel like a puffball – ready to explode with a black
cloud of poisonous spores.
I finally read
some quotes from Lewis, from both the Problem Of Pain and A Grief Observed.
While I don’t think I am “cured”, I may have finally found a way to grab hold
of my anger, pain, and grief. I’ll keep you posted. Below you’ll find some of
the very best of what CS Lewis had to say as his new wife suffered through the
final stages of breast and bone cancer.
"A man can
no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put
out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell." ―
The Problem of Pain
"When pain
is to be borne, a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human
sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more
than all." ― The Problem of Pain
"Now God,
who has made us, knows what we are and that our happiness lies in Him." ―The
Problem of Pain
"Knock and
it shall be opened.' But does knocking mean hammering and kicking the door like
a maniac?" ― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
"God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to
find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn't. In this trial
He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He
always knew that my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me
realize the fact was to knock it down." ― A Grief Observed
"Not that I
am (I think) in much danger of ceasing to believe in God. The real danger is of
coming to believe such dreadful things about Him. The conclusion I dread is not
'So there's no God after all,' but 'So this is what God's really like.’ Deceive
yourself no longer." ― A Grief Observed
"Can a
mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should
think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are in a mile?
Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask - half our great
theological and metaphysical problems - are like that." ― A Grief
Observed
"For in grief nothing 'stays put.' One keeps on emerging
from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I
going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?" ― A Grief Observed
