The Glorious Weights We Carry

31 December, 202231 December, 2022Marissa

There’s a C.S. Lewis sermon that I think about on a near-weekly basis. It’s called “The Weight of Glory.” He originally preached it on June 8, 1941 in the Church of St Mary the Virgin, Oxford. It was then published in Theology for the first time in November, 1941, and has been in print ever since. You can also read it for free online. Usually when I quote this sermon, I reference Lewis’s discussion of how we ought to view others, knowing that every human being has the potential to become fully part of God’s own family. Today, though, I want to start by looking at the message as a whole.

Lewis opens by speaking of the rewards offered a Christian and pointing out that wanting these rewards while living a godly life is not “mercenary.” He spins out Paul’s analogy of the law as our schoolteacher (from Galatians) in more modern terms. He also speaks of our eternal reward and the longing for God in each human heart as a Romantic idea that proves there is something wonderful and heavenly in our future (much like being hungry for food proves that food must exist in some form or another).

The promises of Scripture may very roughly be reduced to five heads. It is promised, firstly, that we shall be with Christ; secondly, that we shall be like Him; thirdly, with an enormous wealth of imagery, that we shall have “glory”; fourthly, that we shall, in some sense, be fed or feasted or entertained; and, finally, that we shall have some sort of official position in the universe—ruling cities, judging angels, being pillars of God’s temple. The first question I ask about these promises is: “Why any of them except the first?”
C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, p. 4

Even just one of God’s promises are overwhelmingly amazing, yet he offers us even more, including “glory.” Lewis links glory with “what may happen when the redeemed soul, beyond all hope and nearly beyond belief, learns at last that she has pleased Him whom she was created to please” (Lewis, p. 5). We might not describe ourselves as desiring glory, but that’s what we seek when we want “good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgment, and welcome into the heart of things” (Lewis, p. 6). Basically, glory is “being ‘noticed’ by God” or “known by God” (Lewis, p. 6; 1 Cor. 8:3). Plus, of course, there’s the other sense of glory as well–“glory as brightness, splendour, luminosity” (Lewis, p. 7). Then, we get to the part of this sermon that I think about and quote most frequently:

It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour. The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations.
C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, p. 8

It’s this idea of weightiness that I want to focus in on today. When we think of glory, I suspect we think of God Himself being glorious. We might think of shining like lights in the world now, and shining even more when we’re spirit beings in God’s family. But I don’t think we often think of glory as a “load, weight, or burden” that is “heavy” to carry.

Image of light shining on a Bible overlaid with text from 2 Corinthians 4:16-17, WEB version: “Therefore we don’t faint, but though our outward person is decaying, yet our inward person is renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is for the moment, works for us more and more exceedingly an eternal weight of glory” — Image by Lamppost Collective

Weight of Glory

For our momentary, light suffering is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison
2 Corinthians 4:17, NET

Lewis doesn’t reference 2 Corinthians 4:17 directly in his sermon, but it’s alluded to throughout and explicitly referenced in the title. The Greek word for “weight” is baros. It means “weight in reference to its pressure, burden, load” (G922 Zodhiates). You could also translate it “heaviness, burden, trouble” (Thayer). It’s the same word Jesus uses in His parable of the workers in the vineyard where the first workers complain, “These last have spent one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat!”’” (Matt. 20:12, WEB). It’s something that’s heavy, often burdensome, and it’s carried like a load.

This burdensome heaviness is contrasted with “light suffering.” Here, light is elaphros and it means “light in weight, quick, agile” (G1645 Thayer). It means something that’s “not heavy, easy to bear” (Zodhiates). It’s such an interesting word picture. Paul describes our suffering as light and easy to carry, and eternal glory as something heavy and burdensome. Why not the other way around? Suffering seems like a heavy thing to drag around and glory like something shining and light and wonderful. What’s going on here?

There aren’t a whole lot of other verses using baros that we can look at for more information on how it’s used in the Bible. One stands out, though. Paul uses this word in Galatians when he says, “Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2, NET). That one seems fairly straightforward–we all have metaphorical burdens we carry, so we should help each other out with that–but thinking of “glory” as being included in our burdens adds an interesting additional layer to this verse. It brings us back to Lewis’s point about taking the burden of our neighbors’ glory seriously (and I’m sure he knew about the connection between these two verses since he could read Greek).

And what about “light suffering”? The only other time this word translated “light” appears in scripture is when Jesus says, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:29-30, WEB). The word for “burden” here isn’t baros but phortion; a word that’s also related to freight loads, but is metaphorically connected to “rites” and “obligations” (G5413 Thayer). The burdens that Jesus asks us to carry (including, though not limited to, suffering in this life) are not unreasonably heavy. He’s yoked to us, carrying the burdens alongside us.

Worthy and Weighty

Now we come to the verses that started me off on today’s whole study. I was sitting in church listening to a sermon and I don’t remember if the speaker read the definition for a Greek word used in these verses or if I looked it up myself, but I was intrigued by the idea of “worthily” and “weighty” being connected.

I, therefore, the prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live worthily of the calling with which you have been called
Ephesians 4:1, NET

so that you may live worthily of the Lord and please him in all respects—bearing fruit in every good deed, growing in the knowledge of God,
Colossians 1:10, NET

Worthily is from the adverb form of axios, which (not surprisingly) means “worthily, suitably, properly” (G516 Zodhiates). But if you start looking at the related words like the adjective axios, you learn that it has to do with weight. The root is ago (G71), which means “to weigh.” Axios describes something that has inherent, weighty value (G514 Zodhiates; Thayer). It may mean something of equal value like items in a market balancing a scale. It can also mean “worthy or deserving” and “suitable, congruent, corresponding to” (G514 Zodhiates).

Now, I read this and the first thing I thought of was the phrase “weight of glory,” though I now know Paul uses a different word for the “eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17, NET). Even so, both have to do with the idea of weight as something to carry (just like the English words weight, burden, and heavy are all related). It’s not too much of a stretch to connect the idea of “the weight of glory” to living a worthy or “weighty” life.

Sufferings and Glory

Image of light shining on a Bible with the blog's title text and the words "Understanding the weight of glory has a profound impact on how we live our lives now. The worth of the glory God offers us far outweighs the inconvenience of suffering, which is light in comparison." — Image by Lamppost Collective

There’s something deeply valuable about the glory that God offers us. It’s weighty. It has meaning. It’s worth far outweighs the inconvenience of suffering, which is light in comparison. Understanding the weight of glory has a profound impact on how we live our lives now.

So then, brothers and sisters, we are under obligation, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh (for if you live according to the flesh, you will die), but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are the sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery leading again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself bears witness to our spirit that we are God’s children. And if children, then heirs (namely, heirs of God and also fellow heirs with Christ)—if indeed we suffer with him so we may also be glorified with him. For I consider that our present sufferings cannot even be compared to the coming glory that will be revealed to us.
Romans 8:12-18, NET

Over and over in the New Testament, suffering is linked with glory. Jesus said He had to suffer before entering His glory (Luke 24:26). The writer of Hebrews goes so far as to say Jesus was “crowned with glory and honor because he suffered death” (Heb. 2:9, NET, emphasis added). Peter also talks about the connection between Christ’s suffering and His glory, then links it to our suffering and glory as well (1 Peter 1:8-11; 4:12-13; 5:1-3, 10).

Dear friends, do not be astonished that a trial by fire is occurring among you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice in the degree that you have shared in the sufferings of Christ, so that when his glory is revealed you may also rejoice and be glad. …

And, after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory in Christ will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.
1 Peter 4:12-13; 5:10 NET

It makes more sense, now, why glory is a weighty burden and our sufferings so light we may hardly notice carrying them. I’m sure we’ve all met someone who is always smiling, positive, and talking about how good Jesus is to them while they’re going through things that you’d expect would drive someone to despair, or at least dampen their spirits. One of the people who comes to mind for me is Tamie Haupricht, a woman who became my friend while we were dancing together at a Messianic congregation. She asked me to work with her as an editor when she published her story two years ago, and you can click here to get a copy of Always Smiling: A Journey From Abuse To A Life of Faith and Joy (I don’t make anything from sharing this book; I just started writing this paragraph and then felt I should share her story with you).

The more we learn about the gifts God shares with us, the more we ought to feel the weightiness of carrying His name, nature, and future plans for us. Incredibly, these gifts include and are not limited to glory so momentous that it outweighs sufferings by so much that they can seem light in comparison. We’re offered glory along with Jesus; a share in the glory He received after suffering in our place. And, as Lewis reminds us, we’re not the only ones offered this. “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” and as a result “whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life” (1 Tim. 1:15; John 3:16). Everyone we meet has the same glorious potential that God is giving us. I wonder how much it would change my life if I really, truly remembered this. I’m carrying the weight of the glory God offers me. God loves every person I interact with or even hear about enough to die for them and He’d be overjoyed if none of them perished (1 Tim. 3:4; 2 Peter 3:9). Those truths should impact my every choice and interaction.

Featured image by Lamppost Collective

Song Recommendation: “Glorious” by Ted Pearce

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The Rightness of Trusting God’s Will Even When It’s Scary

3 April, 20212 April, 2021Marissa

One of the most astonishing statements in all of scripture was made on Passover evening nearly 2000 years ago, on the night in which Jesus was betrayed. Knowing exactly what was about to happen, Jesus still prayed “not my will but yours be done” (Matt. 26:36-46; Luke 22:39-46). This is the ultimate example of meekness–power submitted to the will of God. Jesus could have asked His Father for “more than twelve legions of angels” to free Him from the arresting mob if He’d wanted to(Matt. 26:51-45). Instead, He said, “Father, if this cup cannot be taken away from me unless I drink it, your will must be done” (Matt. 26:42).

Scripture describes Jesus as being “anguished and distressed” and feeling “deeply grieved” in His soul. Emotionally, that sounds like just about as bad as it can get for a human being. Yet even in such a dire situation, He prayed for God’s will to be done. I suspect He even prayed that in part because of the dire situation, using His conviction that God can be trusted and that His will is best to carry Him through what lay ahead.

For us today, who’ve committed to following Jesus’s example, “Your will be done” should also be our prayer during times of testing and trouble (as well as in good times). That’s not always easy to say, though. We might even be afraid or reluctant to pray for God’s will to be done, especially when the future seems uncertain. It comes down to an issue of trust and perspective.

God Knows Best

I often think about the spiritual implications of my struggles with anxiety. If I give in to catastrophizing and fear, what does that say about my level of (mis)trust in God? Connecting that idea to today’s post, it seems that whether or not we want to pray, “Your will be done,” is often tied-in to all those fears and worries. Is God really good all the time? Does He care enough to make this situation work out for me? What if praying for His will means I don’t get what I want or need?

I think we need to reject shaming people (including ourselves) for weaknesses and fears, and rather encourage each other to keep choosing trust and faith over and over again. Anxieties are “afflictions, not sins” (to quote C.S. Lewis), though they can lead us into sin if we let them. Overcoming fear is an ongoing process and it involves conscious choice, including the choice to trust that God knows what He’s doing.

We know that we should pray for God’s will to be done, but we’re often afraid to. Why? Because we do not trust that His will is best for us. We think His agenda and ours are by nature at odds with one another.
Because of our corruption, they may in fact be at odds. But if we could see the whole picture, we would understand that it is our own will that falls short of fulfilling our well-being, not His.
CHRIS TIEGREEN, 365 POCKET DEVOTIONS, DAY 114

It’s often easy to pray, “May your kingdom come, may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt. 6:10, NET). When it’s less personal, sometimes it’s easier to wrap our minds around the idea that God changing things and making them better is a good thing (especially when it’s becoming more and more clear how much suffering and corruption is in the world). But it’s often harder to pray, “May your will be done (not mine)” in very personal situations that affect us immediately and directly (especially if we have a preferred outcome in mind). And yet that’s exactly what Jesus did, and what His disciples do.

His Good Plans Will Come to Pass

Paul’s a great example of one of Jesus’s disciples who submitted his own will and plans for his life to God. He started out by persecuting those who believed in Jesus the Messiah, then completely changed his life in response to God making His will known. That cost Paul greatly in terms of physical things, but also blessed him richly in terms of spiritual things.

I’m pretty sure I’ve written before about Paul’s view on trials–“that our present sufferings cannot even be compared to the coming glory that will be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18, NET). It might not seem at first as if he’s talking about God’s will here, but he is. Going back to Romans 7:14-21, we find Paul describing the struggle between his unspiritual self and the spiritual law of God–his will versus God’s will. Next, Romans 8:1-17 talks about the leading of God’s spirit and Him saving us from sin, which is something He desires/wills for all people (1 Tim. 2:4; 2 Pet. 3:9). Then, Paul describes a struggle in creation, which was not willingly “subjected to futility … in hope,” but as part of God’s will for adopting children into His family (Rom. 8:19-26).

And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes on behalf of the saints according to God’s will. And we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose …. What then shall we say about these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?
Romans 8:27-28, 31, NET

God has a plan. It’s a good plan. And because He’s the all-powerful Creator and Sustainer of the universe, His good plans for each of us and the whole of creation will come to pass. When we keep this in mind, there’s no need for us to fearfully grasp for control or to worry and fret about the future (Matt. 6:25-34).

Image by WhoisliketheLord Studio via Lightstock

We Follow in Christ’s Footsteps

I recently started reading C.S. Lewis’s collection of passages from George MacDonald’s writings. One of the quotes which caught my eye says that because God “is against sin,” sometimes it also feels as if He is against the things that we want, strive for, and dream about. Which might actually be the case, if we’re still living lives influenced by sin, but God is never against us. When God is against someone’s sinful desires,” He is altogether and always for them” (Unspoken Sermons, First Series, The Consuming Fire). God is for us, and sometimes that means showing us that the things we want aren’t good for us. MacDonald also said that God’s “wrath will consume what they call themselves so that the selves God made shall appear” (same source). Coming to the Light isn’t always a comfortable process, but it is always good for us.

What these quotes make me think of is the fact that because God’s will and His love always work for good in the end, sometimes the immediate result of submitting to His will is painful, as it was for Jesus. Jesus knew, though, that His suffering was part of God’s plan to bring about good for the whole world, and things happened exactly as the Father purposed (Acts 4:27-28). Jesus prayed for God’s will knowing with absolute certainty “that the Father had handed all things over to him, and that he had come from God and was going back to God” (John 13:3, NET). We also know that He focused on “the joy set out for him” when “he endured the cross, disregarding its shame,” and that He “has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12: 2, NET). Following His example, we can also pray for God’s will to be done knowing that God has good things in store for us and for the entire world.

Thinking about Jesus’s trust in His Father also adds another layer to how we can understand the verse, “Endure your suffering as discipline; God is treating you as sons” (Heb. 12:7, NET). Jesus did not need to be disciplined in order to correct bad behavior (since He never sinned), but He certainly suffered. Scripture is clear that following in His footsteps will involve suffering (sometimes from the world, sometimes as an attack from spiritual evil, and sometimes as part of God’s refining process that’s meant to strengthen us and help us grow). When we suffer, we know that we’re not going through anything that Jesus wasn’t willing to go through as well; God is not treating us any differently than He did His only begotten son. We also know that we can look forward to the same goal that Jesus focused on–the goal of eternal life together with God, as a family. We can also pray “your will be done” knowing that God is faithful, that He knows what He’s doing, and that He will work things out for good in the end.

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Featured image by Jantanee via Lightstock

Obedience Without Worry

4 July, 20203 July, 2020Marissa

I recently reread C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity, and I’d like to start today’s post with one of the many quotes that stood out to me:

“Handing everything over to Christ does not, of course, mean that you stop trying. To trust Him means, of course, trying to do all that He says. There would be no sense in saying you trusted a person if you would not take his advice. Thus if you have really handed yourself over to Him, it must follow that you are trying to obey Him. But trying in a new way, a less worried way. Not doing these things in order to be saved, but because He has begun to save you already.”

It’s a perfect way of describing the relationship between faith and works. We’re not saved by anything we do, but being saved inspires us to obedience and therefore faith-fueled action.

A Different Perspective on Law

This whole idea also makes me think of Psalm 119, which we were just looking at a couple months ago. The writer of Psalm 119 crafted a beautiful poem that pays homage to God’s law, precepts, and ordinances with every line. It’s a celebration of God’s precious words and of the positive effect following his instructions can have on our lives.

Blessed are those whose ways are blameless, who walk according to Yahweh’s law. Blessed are those who keep his statutes, who seek him with their whole heart. (Psalm 119:1-2, all quotes from WEB translation)

I will delight myself in your commandments, because I love them. I reach out my hands for your commandments, which I love. I will meditate on your statutes. (Psalm 119:47-48)

How I love your law! It is my meditation all day. Your commandments make me wiser than my enemies, for your commandments are always with me. (Psalm 119:97-98)

When was the last time you thought of God’s commandments as a delight? Or felt like exclaiming, “I love His law!” All too often, modern churches describe God’s law either as a burden we’re well rid of or as something we still have to put up with and must fear breaking. The people closest to God, though, have historically seen His words as something precious; a gift given for our good. He is to be obeyed, but not out of a sense of obligation. We obey because we love, and because we are loved.

Don’t Settle for Less Than the Best You

5 May, 202020 August, 2021Marissa

I recently reread one of my favorite books, Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. And I found that he spends quite a bit of time talking about the theme of my blog—finding our true selves in the people God created us to be. I didn’t purposefully have Lewis in mind when I wrote that tagline, but I’d read Mere Christianity before and I’m sure that’s partly where the idea came from.

Yesterday, I was struggling to come up with an idea for today’s post. It’s hard to go wrong talking about C.S. Lewis, so I thought I’d share some of what he has to say about finding the truest versions of ourselves. Of course, given the sort of man that he was, it is impossible for him to talk about such a topic without pointing readers to God.

“The more we get what we now call ‘ourselves’ out of the way and let Him take us over, the more truly ourselves we become. There is so much of Him that millions and millions of ‘little Christs,’ all different, will still be too few to express Him fully. He made them all. He invented—as an author invents characters in a novel—all the different men that you and I were intended to be. In that sense our real selves are all waiting for us in Him. It is no good trying to ‘be myself’ without Him. The more I resist Him and try to live on my own, the more I become dominated by my own heredity and upbringing and surroundings and natural desires. … I am not, in my natural state, nearly so much of a person as I like to believe: most of what I call ‘me’ can be very easily explained. It is when I turn to Christ, when I give myself up to His Personality, that I first begin to have a real personality of my own.”
Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

It’s an interesting concept to think that that no matter how hard we might try on our own to be an individual, authentic self we will actually be moving away from our real personalities if we are not moving toward God. As the inventor of personality, God is the one best qualified to tell us what we are meant to be. It’s the potter and clay analogy—that God is the potter who decides what sort of vessel He is making us to be (Is. 29:15-16; Jer. 18:1-6).

Don't Settle for Less Than the Best You | LikeAnAnchor.com — Photo credit: WhoisliketheLord Studio via Lightstock

A choice to be different

Perhaps the idea of needing to turn to God to find ourselves sounds like it goes against free will. It does not. The very fact that we can reject God and try to be something other than what He intends attests to Him giving us a choice. But choosing anything other than Him just means we’re crippling our self-expression and rejecting the greatest path to personal growth. Finding ourselves shouldn’t be our focus, though. In fact, getting too caught-up in the self is a good way to lose track of our truest personality.

“At the beginning I said there were Personalities in God. I will go further now. There are no real personalities anywhere else. Until you have given up your self to Him you will not have a real self. Sameness is to be found most among the most ‘natural’ men, not among those who surrender to Christ. How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been; how gloriously different are the saints.”
Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

There’s so much fullness in Christ that becoming like Him does not mean we all turn into little carbon-copies of each other. He made us to be gloriously different, and we learn exactly how to do that when we lose ourselves in Him. As Jesus said, “He who seeks his life will lose it; and he who loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 10:39, WEB).

“But there must be a real giving up of the self. You must throw it away ‘blindly’ so to speak. Christ will indeed give you a real personality; but you must not go to Him for the sake of that. As long as your own personality is what you are bothering about you are not going to Him at all. The very first step is to try to forget about the self altogether. Your real, new self (which is Christ’s and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him.”
Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

Transformation, not just improvement

One of the points that Lewis makes quite eloquently is that the work Jesus is doing in us involves a whole lot more than simply making us better people. A lot of us come to Jesus and think we can basically stay as we are. We try to become “good” (well, good-ish) when in fact God as a much higher plan for us. He wants us to be perfect, and that means a deeper change.

“The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self—all your wishes and precautions—to Christ. But it is far easier than what we are all trying to do instead. For what we are trying to do is to remain what we call ‘ourselves,’ to keep personal happiness as our great aim in life, and yet at the same time be ‘good.’ We are all trying to let our mind and heart go their own way—centered on money or pleasure or ambition—and hoping, in spite of this, to behave honestly and chastely and humbly. And that is exactly what Christ warned us you could not do. As He said, a thistle cannot produce figs. If I am a field that contains nothing but grass-seed, I cannot produce wheat. Cutting the grass may keep it short: but I shall still produce grass and no wheat. If I want to produce wheat, the change must go deeper than the surface. I must be ploughed up and re-sown.” — Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis

This sounds drastic, and it is. It may also sound impossible, but don’t despair. God knows what raw material you’re working with and He’s not worried about how far you are from perfection when you first come to Him. In fact, He does some of His best work with the people who the world would describe as the most hopeless (though of course He can work with anyone who is willing to let Him).

If we try to do things on our own, we’re settling for less than the best. That includes settling for a version of ourselves that is missing something essential from our Creator. If we go through life focused on self, even if that simply means trying to be good apart from God, we will not find happiness. But, to quote the final line of Mere Christianity, “look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.”

The quotes I took from Mere Christianity are all found near the end of the book (several from the final chapter). If you’d like to read everything leading up to them, I highly recommend this book. Here’s a link where you can buy it. (Please not that this is an affiliate link, which means if you click and make a purchase I’ll receive a small commission at no additional cost to you.) If you’d like to read Mere Christianity without buying it, the full text is available online.

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My Anxiety Story

29 May, 201926 August, 2019Marissa

My first panic attack happened in a Blockbuster about 14 or 15 years ago. I was high-school age and trying to spend a gift card I’d won in a library reading program. I hadn’t been in there before and new places made me nervous, but I’d planned exactly what I was looking for and my mom and sister were with me so it was going to be fine. Then the DVD wasn’t there. And I can’t make up my mind what to do, my mom wants me to hurry up because we’re running late, my sister says just make a decision already, and suddenly I can’t breath so I grab a DVD march up to the counter, and get out. Then my family asks why I was rude to the cashier and seem so angry.

It didn’t feel like anger. My heart was racing, hands shaking, breathing shallow. I felt hot all over and my skin seemed too small. But other than embarrassing, I didn’t know what it was. And then it happened again months later in a Hobby Lobby. I’d worked up the courage to ask about a price that seemed too high, which lead to a confrontation with the manager and the realization that I was the one who’d read the sign wrong. Again the tightness in my chest, the shallow breathing, the shaking, and too-warm feeling. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

College didn’t make things any better. After I spent most of my first quarter hiding or in tears, I found myself in the Dewey Decimal 155.2 (Individual Psychology) section of a library’s bookshelves. Susan Cain’s Quiet: The Power of Introverts In A World That Won’t Stop Talking* and Elaine Aron’s The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You* were literal life-changers. I recommend them to people more often than any other non-fiction book except the Bible. I finally understood why so many things that other people treated as normal seemed overwhelming to me. But they still didn’t explain everything.

*please note that these are affiliate links, which means that at no additional cost to you, I’ll receive a small commission if you click on the link and make a purchase.

Realizing I Had Anxiety

I’m not sure exactly when I began to suspect I was dealing with an anxiety disorder. In June of 2013 I wrote on this blog, “I’m not very good at letting go of my anxiety.” But I was still thinking of it more in the sense of “I worry too much” rather than “a psychologist would say I have anxiety.” I started feeling guilty for thinking of myself as anxious, especially when people who knew they had anxiety started following my blog and I realized mine didn’t seem as bad as theirs. Maybe I was just a wimp who was overeating to normal, everyday worries. Read more →

Seeing Unicorns For What They Really Are

6 August, 20186 August, 2018Marissa

I realized after my last Classics Club post that I’m bad at writing book reviews. I’d intended to just write a short “this is what the books are like, this is what I thought” post for Elizabeth Gaskell’s novels but it turned into an essay on what makes a strong female character and the state of modern feminism. I think I’ll give up on book reviews. Apparently I can only write thoughtful, rambling essays.

That’s not a bad thing though, right? These are classics, after all. People have been writing reviews of them for decades or centuries. If you want to find out about the plot you can go on Goodreads. I’d much rather talk about the ideas prompted by these great books. And I think you might rather read about that, too.

NOTE: this post contains spoilers but not enough, I think, to ruin the book for you

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A Perfect Fantasy Book

I feel like The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle* should have been a re-read for me, but this was the first time I’d read it. You’d think as much as I love unicorns and fantasy novels I’d have picked this one up earlier. Especially considering how much everyone loves it. Even the guy who wrote the best fantasy book I’ve ever read says, “The Last Unicorn is the best book I have ever read. You need to read it. If you’ve already read it, you need to read it again” (Patrick Rothfuss, author of The Name of the Wind*).

On the surface, The Last Unicorn seems like a pretty simple book. A unicorn overhears two men say there aren’t any unicorns left in the world. Worried that she might be the last one, she goes out searching for other unicorns and meets with the sort of adventures you’d expect in a fantasy novel. There’s a wizard, a merry band of outlaws, a wise woman, a curse, a wicked king, and heroic prince, a talking cat, and a beautiful princess. But there’s so much more than that, too.

How People See You

There’s a lot going on in this relatively short book, so I’m just going to focus on one theme that I found particularly interesting. When the unicorn first sets out on her search, I expected that problems would arise when people spotted a unicorn walking down the road. But all they see is a white mare. The unicorn is puzzled.

“I suppose I could understand if men had simply forgotten unicorns, or if they had changed so that they hated unicorns and tried to kill them when they saw them. But not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else — what do they look like to one another, then? What do trees look like to them, or houses, or real horses, or their own children?”(p. 11).