Divine Plagiarism

Today, I finished my one year task of reading all of C.S. Lewis’ books. The last book was ‘That Hideous Strength.’ God spoke to me in a way I very much did not expect. Please grant me a degree of grace here. This is me at my most real.

‘He knew that he was going to meet Jane, and something was beginning to happen to him which ought to have happened to him far earlier. That same outlook upon love which had forestalled in Jane the humility of a wife, had equally forestalled in him, during what passed for courtship, the humility of a lover…

This time at last he thought of his own clumsy importunity. And the thought would not go away. Inch by inch, all the lout and clown and clod-hopper in him was revealed to his own reluctant inspection; the course, male boor with thorny hands and hobnailed shoes and beefsteak jaw, not rushing in - for that can be carried off - but blundering, sauntering, stumping in where great lovers, knights and poets would have dared to tread. An image of Jane’s skin, so smooth that a child’s skin might make a mark on it, floated before him. How had he dared? Her driven snow, her music, her sacrosanct, the very style of her movements… how had he dared? And dared too with no sense of daring, nonchalantly, in careless stupidity! The very thoughts that crossed her face from moment to moment, all of them beyond his reach, made (had he but had the wit to see it) a hedge about her which such as he should never have had the temerity to pass. Yes, yes - of course, it was she who had allowed him to pass it: perhaps in luckless, misunderstanding pity. And he had taken blackguardly advantage of that noble error in her judgment; had behaved as if here native to that fenced garden and even its natural professor.

All this, which should have been uneasy joy, was torment to him, for it came to late. He was discovering the hedge after he had plucked the rose, and not only plucked it but torn it all to pieces and crumpled it with hot, thumb-like, greedy fingers. How had he dared?’

God, forgive me. I tried, over and over, to pick the lock on the hedge you built to protect your beloved daughter. How had I dared? How could I have thought that through some strength, or cleverness, or sleight of hand that I could trespass in that garden that You created and You have guarded? You were right to keep me out. Forgive me, Lord. Her heart is yours. Forgive me for my clumsy attempts at burglary. I will try to pick locks no more. I will ask You for the key. She is Yours first and always.

‘What could he do in such a place- where his very admiration could only be insult, his best attempts to be either grave or gay could only reveal unbridgeable misunderstanding? What he had called her coldness seemed now to be patience. Whereof the memory scalded. For he loved her now. But it was all spoiled: too late to mend matters.

Suddenly the diffused light brightened and flushed. He looked up and perceived a great lady standing by a doorway in a wall. It was not Jane, not like Jane. It was larger, almost gigantic. It was not human, though it was like a woman divinely tall, part naked, part wrapped in a flame-colored robe. Light came from it. The face was enigmatic, ruthless he thought, inhumanly beautiful. It was opening the door for him. He dare not disobey (‘surely’ he thought, ‘I must have died,’) and he went in: found himself in some place of sweet smells and bright fires, with food and wine and a rich bed.’

Jesus, if you would honor me by placing Your daughter into my hands, please teach me to love her the way You do. May I tread with reverence, respecting your artistry, yet with daring, with such valor as would fit entering into such a hallowed and mysterious and dangerous place as her heart. May I honor her with my heart, worship her with my body, and love her with my life. May I protect her and challenge her. May I love her enough to give her new life, for love brings life, and gives birth to new life. May I surround her with children, and grand-children. If You give her to me, may I give her back to You each day, for she is Yours first and always. Just as I am Yours first. This is my heart, placed in Your hands.

‘Go in obedience and you will find love. You will have no more dreams. Have children instead. Urendi Maleldil.’