Lately, people like to ask me, “How was the world?”
Mostly, I just shrug and say “Dirty.”
C.S. Lewis wrote that “Our best havings are wantings.”
And if you’re new to the blog, you should know I think ol’ Clive is pretty much right about everything. He communicates in so many ways and so many writings that the object of our joy is a very limited part of the joy we experience. The desire for, imaginings of, and memories surrounding the thing are all part of the joy in its completeness. Forgive me for botching that. I don’t have any of his books on hand. His point is simple enough though: if you repeatedly seek the thing that once gave you joy, you will repeatedly be disappointed. It well never be “quite the same” as you remember.
This train of thought leads to one of his most famous quotes, concluding that “we were made for another world.”
I used to have this crazy excitement when I thought about this world. I’d always wanted to really see the world. National Geographic pictures could suck me in for hours. I used to dream of the conversations I’d have with those people. I used to fantasize about sitting in their mud huts, or walking their dusty streets, or playing with their barely-clad children and just living so simply.
And now I have.
There’s the culture shock part you were waiting for… I just said a lot of “used to.” Do I still want to travel? Probably. Would I get on a plane & go overseas tomorrow? Eh, I’d rather not.
(Pre-Race Katie is still somewhere in my head going, “You really just said that. Who are you?!” She does that a lot lately.)
It’s not that the world (or the bit of it I saw in 11 months) didn’t live up to my expectations. In fact, it exceeded the ones I managed to hold onto at all. It’s just that… “the world” is no longer mysterious to me.
I know I haven’t seen it all. I know that there are still beautiful people to meet. I know we’ll never run out of places to explore. But after years of chasing my dreams over all of creation, I’m realizing this:
the only things that’s still mysterious to me is the Creator.
I love mystery. I love imagining. I love the unknown. I love trying to grasp at things that I just can’t quite understand. I love what’s bigger than me.
But when it comes to the world, to all of our wisdom and understanding, big things become facts and theories so easily. An endless horizon becomes a blue line on a map. As I thought about this tonight, I remembered the end of Tangled:
I’ve been looking out of a window for eighteen years, dreaming about what I might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it’s not everything I dreamed it would be?
So things look differently to me now. Yes, the world was everything I dreamed it would be, and more. And yes, it’s really dirty. Maybe the wonder of new places will return to me soon. But right now, tonight, even looking at the stars, God is the only thing that still overwhelms me with mystery. The only thing that fills me with a longing for more. And I never have to fear that He will disappoint. I’ll spend the rest of my life imagining, and the rest of eternity discovering. That’s what He promises.
-Katie
