A Crying Lion

A couple of months ago, a good friend of mine sent me the following excerpt from a book called "God on mute" by Peter Greig. I have found it incredibly helpful over the past few months with some of the uncertainties and struggles surrounding mine and Vianney's health. Like other things I've quoted on my blog in the past, I think the extract speaks for itself:

"In the first of his Narnia Chronicles, The Magician's Nephew, which is the prequel to The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, C. S. Lewis tells the story of a boy named Digory whose mother is dying. When Digory first encounters the great lion Aslan, he gathers his courage and asks, 'May I - please, will you give me some magic fruit of this country to make Mother well?' It's a heart-rending request - a prayer of desperation - and yet, at the time, Aslan appears to ignore it completely: He had been desperately hoping that the Lion would say 'Yes'; he had been horribly afraid it might say 'No'. But he was taken aback when it said neither.

When God is silent in response to our deepest and most desperate prayers - saying neither yes with a miracle nor no with a clear sign that would at least let us know He had heard us - it is natural to conclude that God doesn't care. But a little while later, Digory dares to ask Aslan for help again: He thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:'But please, please won't you - can't you give me something that will cure Mother?' Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in despair, he looked up at it's face.

What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself. Digory's prayer remained unanswered, but everything had changed. Now, he knew that the great Lion - in whom all his hopes were resting - truly cared. Whenever we carry a burden to God in prayer, begging, 'please, please, won't you, can't you' and yet God remains silent, we may assume that He is unmoved as long as our eyes remain downcast reverently at His feet. But when, in our pain and shame, we dare to lift our gaze to study His countenance, we find His face bent down near our own and, '(wonder of wonders) great, shining tears' are in His eyes. What an incredible revelation!"