“Is — is he a man?” Lucy asked.
“Aslan a man!” Mr. Beaver said sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”
— from C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this excerpt and how it paralells with my King. One of my professors at Briercrest used to say “Are you sure you want to do that?” when people would tell him that they wanted to give their life to God. He says that because He knows what can happen when you do give your life to God: you lose it. When I was first getting to know God, studying Him, exploring Him, testing out what He says is the best way to do things, all I knew was that I was safe with him. He would protect me. He would take away my misery, my self-destruction and He would hold me in his hands like a mother caring for her injured child. He told me he loved me, wiped my tears and kissed me on the forehead. I kept telling him “I want to follow you. Take my life.” And once I was on the mend, I learned what that meant.
God is safe, but he’s not safe. God will protect you, but he might send you to a dangerous place. God loves you, but he might take you from the ones you love. He might take away everything that you thought meant something to you to show you the true meaning of life. He might ask you to do things that you said you’d never do. Or that you thought you would never do. Or that you were too scared to even think of thinking of doing. He might ask you to say something. Do something. Stand out. Go against the grain. Conflict with the patterns of this world.
I can hide myself in God. But sometimes I wish I could hide from him. I feel him saying “You said you wanted me to have your life. That means you actually have to give it.” As dangerous as following God can be, it is an incredible adventure. Sometimes I wish I could hide from him because of what he might ask me to do, but I know that he is good. If he guides me somewhere, I am in his hands, and there is no where more safe than being in the hands of God.