Another seemingly uneventful Saturday, and I am confronted by my pest to kill.
In ‘The Great Divorce’, C. S. Lewis write of the man with his pet lizard who has whispered lies in his wars his whole life, but who deigned to kill it at heaven’s gates for he had grown so attached to it.
Tonight, I finally see my pride that is my pet lizard. For a few moments there, I’d really debated the thought of slaying it. Now I know in flesh the struggle of the man who must slay his pet in order to gain eternal life, and flesh it is. Thanks to the prayer of another saint, I summon up just enough courage to throw it to the ground, ready for the angel’s sword, our in this case, the intense great of God’s refining fire.
No wonder hell is really the end product of a life lived as a series of choices that are ‘not God’. There us a choice to be made at each turn. Tonight, let the flesh lay slain as I look upon the Saviour who took to the cross – for all of humanity’s filth, including mine.
Jesus, bid me,
Sweet Saviour I come;
Even unto death of my self,
Lord I come, I come.