Interim No.3 |Reasons Inexplicable

Four years, and naught.
But at our core, we know that cannot be true.
(I fear anything I add will only take away.)

The rational self agrees with you here:
“There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I don’t really mind so much, not so very much, after all. Love is not the whole of a man’s life. I was happy before…”



And the emotional self here:
“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me.
I dread the moments when the house is empty…Was it ever inhabited? It seemed so once. And that seeming was as strong as this. What can this mean?”

And with grace and time, I hope to arrive here, too:
“Something quite unexpected has happened. It came this morning early. For various reasons, not in themselves at all mysterious, my heart was lighter than it had been for many weeks.
Looking back, I see that only a very little time ago I was greatly concerned about my memory and how false it might become. For some reason – the merciful good sense of God is the only one I can think of – I have stopped bothering about that.” [CSL]

“For the true consolations of religion are not rosy and cozy, but comforting in the true meaning of that  word: com-fort: with strength. Strength to go on living, and to trust that whatever Joy needs, or anyone we love who has died needs, is being taken care of by that Love which began it all.

In the end, what shines through the last pages of his journal of grief is an affirmation of love, his love for Joy and hers for him, and that love is in the context of God’ s love.

No easy or sentimental comforts are offered, but the ultimate purpose of God’s love for all of us human creatures is love. Reading A Grief Observed is to share not only in C. S. Lewis’s grief but in his understanding of love, and that is richness indeed.” [MLE]