Recently I've been thinking about the walls I build around my life. It seems that we all have these walls to an extent. There's an area that we try so hard to protect and sometimes with very good reason. But many of these walls are meant to fall, and some fall harder than others. I would have to say that I am an expert wall-builder... that is if we're talking quantity. While home, by quality doesn't look half bad either. These walls take quite a beating as I prepare and begin to build them sometimes even weeks before a return. It's hard to tell the function of these walls really.... It's like they're the ones you climb over-- you don't beat through them. At school, they crumble-- absolutely fall to pieces, only to be rebuilt and fall and again rebuilt. I don't know how not to build them. They're easy and automatic. And they work great with such wear that would normally tear apart my unguarded heart. Do we experience things to learn to build these walls more efficiently? Or do we experience things to recognize the walls, their advantages and disadvantages? What I've learned over time, however, is that these walls fall, and when they do, whether they fall in good ways or bad, they leave a mess and some scratches. We were not made for the insides of walls, and man-made buildings are not for our hearts.... As I build walls and they continue to fall, I learn that perhaps I don't need a wall to divide me from everything-- to guard me from what might come. What I need is a guardian, someone who walks beside me and who builds bridges to solutions, who walks through things hand-in-hand with me. I will not move, I cannot grow, I cannot go anywhere if I stay within the walls that I build. As walls fall, I need to learn to sing as Paul did. I cannot stay and rebuild the prison around me, but I must let God lead me out and away from those walls
"God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn’t. In this trial He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He always knew that my temple was a house of cards. He only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down."
A Grief Observed / Lewis, C.S