Yea, Though I Walk

I found this text to be quite compelling.  I decided to read the whole thing, but I will try to limit my comments in this post to the first two chapters.  I suppose it reminded me of a kind of freewrite.  I feel as though Lewis was recording thoughts just as they came - and there are a slew of them on each page. From memories of his beloved wife to questions like "Where is God?", his thoughts wind and flow into each other in a rather "random" way, much the way you would talk to a very close friend.  Maybe not even a close friend, perhaps more like the things you think secretly to yourself, or only admit to one person.
  The first sentence was very intruiging to me.  I appreciated the way he attempted to describe the feeling of grief, comparing its symptoms to that of fear.  As I read on, my heart was pounding and I had flutterings in my stomach as well, but I think that really was fear.
  Many things stood out to me - too many to discuss in one post.  I underlined the things that I thought were novel, and put in parentheses concepts that I felt I could relate to.  Here is one which I put in parentheses:
"You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.  It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong and sound as long as you are merely using it to cord a box.  But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a recipice.  Wouldn't you then first discover how much you really trusted it?"

Will we love and trust Him in the shadows like we did in the green pastures?  When the room goes pitch black is when you discover what you really believe, how much you need Him, and eventually, how much He is there.         

Walking in the shadows.  I guess that's one good way to define grief.  Things are blurry and you aren't even sure half of the time what you are thinking.  As Lewis said, he only jotted down "one thought in a hundred."  But I think it's important to remember that when the room goes dark and you're faced with your fundamental beliefs, or lack thereof, you aren't alone.  I think God is holding your hand the whole time - holding you, rather - and can guide you to a deeper understanding, which is what I think he did for C.S. Lewis.  It reminds me of Professor Corrigan's essay, Darkness, Questions, Poetry and Spiritual Hope in which he writes:

"Jesus promises, 'I will never leave you.'  The presence of God with us in the dark makes it possible for us to sit with the question of darkness without being destroyed by madness."

When is grief over?  Does it ever end?  These are some questions Lewis addresses as well.  I don't know.  But whatever the emotional outcome in this life, God's presence with us now makes today all the brighter.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRzvE-1P9xA