An ordinary little bedroom where an ordinary man…

An ordinary simple Christian kneels down to say his prayers. He is trying to get in touch with God. But if he is a Christian he knows that what is prompting him to pray is also God: God, so to speak, inside him. But he also knows that all his real knowledge of God comes through Christ, the Man who was God – that Christ is standing beside him, helping him to pray, praying for him … God is the thing to which he is praying – the goal he is trying to reach. God is also the thing inside him which is pushing him on – the motive power. God is also the road or bridge along which he is being pushed to that goal. So that the whole threefold life of the three-personal Being is actually going on in that ordinary little bedroom where an ordinary man is saying his prayers.

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Tonight was the first time I ever read this passage from C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity as part of a conversation in my Young Adult Ministry group. I’m not sure why, but I’ve never read anything written by C.S. Lewis except maybe a random quote on someone’s social media page …

This passage reflects Lewis’ view of the Holy Trinity. However, when I read the passage, the opening and closing sentences spoke to me the most. They remind me of all the times I dismissed my needs (or wants) as ordinary and not worthy of God’s time. When I should have been thinking of my prayer life as God prompting me for a conversation.

Each time He knew I needed to share my grief about my brother’s mental illness and let go of “why him and not me?” He knew I needed to rid myself of anger towards a co-worker or family member so I’d also purge harsh words that might pour from my mouth in an emotional rage. He knew that I might just need to cut myself some slack, give myself a kind word – such ordinary needs that have monumental possibilities.

Possibilities of how I might learn to better control my emotions – I’m NOT disregarding a good cry, a gentle hug or a scream at the top of your lungs into the open air – see God reflected in my every day life, be more compassionate (and recognize) other people’s pain and open myself in ways I couldn’t imagine. If I’d just listen. If I’d just allow that silent push. If I’d just give myself the okay to sit in my ordinary little bedroom and be an ordinary woman talking to God. Ah, the conversations and reflections that could be had – and nowhere near ordinary.