Beloved

                 See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.  (I John 3:1-2)

“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.” (C. S. Lewis, Weight of Glory)

          Last night, while waiting for the dog to decide to come inside and go to bed, I journaled, and one of the thoughts that dribbled from my fingers was that God is whole, and I am not. What would it be like to be whole? Not broken in a million pieces. Not flawed.

          C. S. Lewis described our situation wonderfully in one of my favorite quotes, but if you change the word ordinary to whole it works as well. We are not whole, but with each decision and decision turned into habit, we become more whole. We might be more wholly horrible or more wholly splendorous, but we do not reach wholeness quickly, and if we reach it easily, it’s probably wholly horrible rather than wholly splendorous.

          We are so used to calling ourselves children of God but how often do we think of ourselves in the way described in either I John or the Lewis quote? Not only do we not see ourselves as we shall be, but we don’t see ourselves as we are. That’s a good thing, because if we saw ourselves as we are, we’re likely to be appalled or grow arrogant. Instead, perhaps we should ask our Father to cause us to understand that while we aren’t whole, we are beloved. And the splendor? It will grow in us if we let Him work.