If you know about my phone being taken and used almost three weeks ago, then you probably know that the likelihood of it being returned is slim to none. Today, I arrived home from work and my husband handed it to me. They called him to say that they gave it back. Thank you Jesus, you answer.
“We must not suppose that even if we succeeded in making everyone nice we should have saved their souls. A world of nice people, content in their own niceness, looking no further, turned away from God, would be just as desperately in need of salvation as a miserable world – and might even be more difficult to save.”—Mere Christianity (1952)
That my phone has been stolen for the second time since June. I left it on a nightstand in a hotel. They told me that no one had turned it in. Of course they hadn’t, because they were trying to hack my bank account. This thing called society sometimes hits you where it hurts. When you make a mistake, when you fail, when you are simply human. The lack of grace and kindness sometimes abruptly slaps you across your face. People are not predisposed to justice. Unless its about them, of course. I have been angry about this. And being 4,000 miles away only reinforces the feeling of my own inability to convince another person to do the right thing. At first, it gnawed at me, like a starved creature at the carcass of my soul. When you are that angry, you feel like something deprived of life. There is no peace, no goodness. You feel partially a fool because if you had just remembered, this wouldn’t have happened. And if they had just done the right thing, you wouldn’t feel such an idiot. You find yourself glaring with fiery eyes into the past, malice and rage are walls that pour themselves like concrete into your reason and form the cage that you so desperately need to break free of. All the sentence I could manage to form was “Morally depraved reprobates.” Words mean nothing, really, when no one hears them, or they don’t care what you say. Or, if what you are saying is not profound. It is well known that there is wrong going on everywhere. This is not the worst evil, by far, that my telephone is in someone else’s house, being a paperweight. And this is what set me aright: That I am faced with a choice to be angry, or a choice to be different. While my soul screams for justice, I am made aware that I have the potential to be unjust. I have been unjust in the past, I will be in the future. I will make mistakes that I will have the opportunity to correct, or leave to my guilty conscience. I can dismiss the moral law within me, or I can concede to it. In the end, I realized that the sole separation betwixt myself and that girl, was that I had been convinced that there was a better way. They Royal Way, some have called it, the Way that Christ set before humanity 2,000 years ago. I am not good. I am not better. “There is none good but God.” and I attest that it is true. I saw myself in that red light of ill-will, and shuddered. Sometimes you must see injustice to recognize it in yourself. Like your countenance in a mirror, what is seen must be addressed. The wrong is in me, just like everyone else.
“One of the marks of a certain kind of bad man is that he can not give up a thing himself without wanting every one else to give it up. That is not the Christian way. An individual Christian may see fit to give up all sorts of things for special reasons- marriage, or meat, or beer, or the cinema; but the moment he starts saying these things are bad in themselves, or looking down his nose at other people who do use them, he has taken the wrong turning.”—C.S. Lewis (via strengthlikelions)
My first plane ride was 25 minutes. I gazed out the window, my mouth agape, wonderfully amazed by the perfectly transformed world beneath me. At times, I realized my forehead was pressed against the emergency exit window. All the world was softened by the delicate lines of lights in the great sea of black. I recognized certain places, but the whole of it was beautiful map I tried to follow in awe. It was a view that only heavenly beings observe.