A Child's Single-Mindedness

It is moments like these that I have to laugh at myself. I do not laugh because I am not conducting serious business or because I am telling a joke. I laugh because I am somewhat like a child trying to do things that only adults are able to do. It is funny, much as is seeing a child trying on their parents' clothes, trying to eat much too large bites of food, or simply walking in shorter steps trying to keep up. I am growing up in a clumsy sort of way.

Perhaps the most serious of all struggles is the contest of being double-minded. When we are unsettled, undetermined, or even vacillating between two thoughts and different times, we become unstable, unfaithful, and untrue to ourselves. It is clear to me, and quite tragic also, that even the most intelligent among us, with their ability to logically hold many perspectives of the world, cannot attain wisdom because of their double-mindedness. The smartest man is not necessarily the wisest man. They broadly reach out ways in which to understand and live when they really should be reaching deep.

Truly, one of the wisest things ever said was that "everything under the sun is meaningless." The elimination of perspectives and beliefs not yet grounded in experience unites the heart. We cannot find comfort in the truth unless we have rejected mere beliefs. A dually-convinced mind is no mind at all. It is useless, like a mirror broken into a thousand pieces. Shallow, clever, or somewhat peer-pressured perspectives of things that do not resonate with my heart are like poison to me. I am not saying it is inherently bad to understand various arguments and opinions of the world, just as I would not say bleach or sulfuric acid is bad in and of themselves. Indeed, they are quite useful. But if I were to swallow bleach or sulfuric acid, to open my mouth and ingest them as a part of me, I would die from their effects. In the same way, I choose to understand but not believe, to listen but not agree, to want but not need those guesses about life that do not resonate with my heart as if they were solid gold truth.

In this way, I am more like a child than in any other situation. I reach my limits with patience in watching my parents and I want to try on my own. It is more beneficial to me to believe wholeheartedly and unmistakably in one thing than to believe shallowly and cleverly convince myself of some goodness in all things. I prefer to desire the desirable, this is why I am a Christian.

The idea that humanity is a playground (or battleground) for love to be given, received, shared, and that Love Himself exists is irresistible to me. Yes, I confess, I believe because I want to. I am a Christian, not because the sum of the facts about the world and history, but because I am drawn to it. I am pulled in, compelled by the deepest hope that gives me undeniable faith. I need to believe. My greatest needs introduced to the greatest Source creates the perfect magnetism. The message of God's love for me commits me to seeing it through, as if by my efforts I could will it to be. It is a sacred romance, an enchantment with truth. The gospel of redemption penetrates my heart so effortlessly one would think that I have never read any book on religion, philosophy, or enlightenment. Skepticism, double-mindedness, and the debates are left by the wayside as I celebrate the discovery of simply desiring Love, Goodness, and Truth.

I do not know by what means anyone else believes in God, Christianity, or whatever. But for me, I am quite like a child growing up in a world much too large for him, trying to pursue the most desirable thing. I am at my best when I enjoy the enjoyable, love the lovable, and play. It is all really quite silly, something I imagine more intelligent people than myself would call childish, ignorant, or foolish. I admit that I know very little, but at least I know one thing.

"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." -The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis