Seeking God Knows What

I just finished reading for the second time a novel called Glittering Images by Susan Howatch. It is the first in her series of fictional books about the Church of England starting in the late 1930s. Each book centers around a particular clergyman, a different one each time but the main character of the next book makes his appearance in the previous one, so there is this sense of continuity as you read the series.

This isn’t going to be a book review other than saying I really like this book and her others (I’ve read them all, sequentially of course ) and I would recommend them to anyone male or female to read.

Why am I even talking about the book then?

Because of something she writes.

In crisis, the main character ends up at the monastery where his spiritual director is (a new one, at that, since his previous one had died). In a conversation after he has let out some of the background as to why he is there, he says:

“I must be mad because I can’t stop crying and men never cry unless they are off their heads.”
“That’s a very powerful myth in our culture and a myth which can produce extremely unhealthy results. Which is better: to express grief and pain by using tear-ducts specially created for the purpose or to express grief and pain by enduring a silent secret haemorrhage of the soul?”
I said as the tears began to fall: “I feel so overwhelmed by the memory of all my unfitness.”
“Very well, perhaps so far you haven’t served God as well as you might have done. Perhaps you’ve even longed to put matters right-”
“I have, yes-oh, indeed I have, I’ve prayed and prayed for help but-”
“Then your prayers are being ansered, aren’t they?”
I stared at him. “Answered?” I looked around the room. I was barely able to speak. “I’ve broken down so utterly that I am unable to continue as a clergyman, and you say this is God answering my prayers?”
“Of course. Do you think God’s been unaware of your difficulties and the suffering you must inevitably have endured? And do you think He’s incapable of reaching out at last to bring you face to face with your troubles so that you can surmount them and go on to serve Him far better than you ever served Him in the past?”
I understood but was unable to tell him so, and as I covered my face with my hands I heard him say: “God hasn’t sent this ordeal to destroy you, Charles. He’s come to your rescue at last, and here in this village, here in this house, here in this room where you’ve hit rock-bottom, here’s where your new life finally begins.”

I think I finally get it.

All of this I’ve been going through in the last few years was not because God had forsaken me but that He wanted me to find Him and start my life anew with Him rather than without Him.