By Kristen Lowrey
Staff Writer
I have recently decided that uncertainty means possibility.
Yes, good. I shall not allow myself to fear the uncertainties, which await me in three weeks after receiving my diploma. Instead, I will look them in the face and say, “You’re lookin’ good! You ready to make some spirit of the times? Yeah, let’s rock.”
I will not allow the flame of my spirit to wither and die simply because I am leaving behind approximately 22 years of education for the “real world.”
The world is full of physical and spiritual warfare, but I am trying to remain focused on hope in Christ. In “Mere Christianity,” author C.S. Lewis finds that the only hope we have is in God, but we are constantly trying to wrestle some form of control from him. Lewis was an atheist who converted to Christianity at the age of 33. After finding Christ, he exemplified a life that did not fear transformation by God. Lewis channeled his newfound faith into writings that have served and changed readers all over the world.
“God is the only comfort,” he wrote. “He is also the supreme terror: the thing we most need and the thing we most want to hide from. He is our only possible ally, and we have made ourselves His enemies.”
One of the ways we put ourselves in direct conflict with the will of God is by avoiding change. Change is the one thing that is inevitable in this life, besides death of course. Embracing change, however, means letting go of the possibility of comfort zones because they retard the growth of the spirit and mind. Comfort zones stifle society because they cause the persons involved to be selfish. Anything outside of the realm of the zone is terrifying and that fear drives their unwillingness to think or act in a progressive manner.
The moment we think that we know something, we fearfully grasp onto it as if it belonged to us. Our constant search for control is in direct conflict with the concept of faith. I often find myself guilty of slipping into comfort zones. I am working on finding my comfort in smaller things, like the number of times I brush my teeth or wash my hands in one day, or being able to drive whenever I have to go anywhere. They may seem silly, but they give me the satisfaction of knowing I am in control, or at least believing that I am in control. The difference between knowing and believing is that the things we “know” are facts, whereas, the things we believe require an element of faith.
Again, Lewis captures the reality of comfort’s deception and inspires the reader to not fall prey to the fleeting nature of comfort, but rather seek truth.
“In religion, as in war and everything else, comfort is the one thing you cannot get by looking for it,” he wrote. “If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end: if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth — only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin with and, in the end, despair.”
In an ideal society we would all seek truth and bear our sufferings with the endurance of knowing that ultimately God is in control. According to Franz Kafka, “in German the word ‘sein’ signifies both things: to be and to belong to Him.”
If life were that simple I would not be writing of these struggles, but there is hope in knowing that his supreme comfort is fathomable; we see this in the example of those who have gone before us in faith. So now I embark on a lifetime journey of change with the wisdom of Thomas A. Kempis resounding in my head.
“As long as thou livest in this world, thou art subject to change, even against thy will.”
— Ready for a change? Know great things are in store? E-mail Kristen Lowery at sklowrey@pepperdine.edu.
April 03, 2003
