The Fence

The Fence
In a field inside my mind
I see a long, white picket fence.
I sit upon its wooden rails
With muscles pinched and tense.

There’s part of me that wants to go
Onto the other side,
Where Jesus rests under a tree,
Its branches stretching wide.

There’s part of me that wants to jump
The opposite of him,
Into a pasture filled with gold;
Where the sky is dark, and dim.

“Come to me,” I hear Jesus call;
He pats under the tree.
The grass looks soft; so perfectly worn,
As if prepared for me.

But the gold-filled side calls louder still,
It seeks no sacrifice.
A cold wind whispers promises
And swears it will suffice.

I sit so long upon the fence,
The wood starts to unbound
The hand-hewn rails crack under me;
A sharp and crooked sound.

In between the gold and Christ,
I hear a still, strong voice.
“The in-between does not exist.
The fence is not a choice.”

Complacent nature on display,
My spirit feels a call
My feet rest heavy in the dirt,
I can no longer stall.

While sitting in the in-between,
The aching grows intense.
There’s no respite for a divided soul,
No peace upon the fence.

Have you selected a side of the fence?

In the last book of the Chronicles of Narnia series, “The Last Battle,” there’s a scene written about the dwarves that readers still find mind-twisting today. I think it perfectly describes how we make decisions as humans without Christ at our side.

After becoming victorious in battle, the dwarves find themselves being deceived by Shift, an evil being within Narnia. They don’t listen to the other Narnians celebrating their victory over evil and instead believe Aslan is deceiving and betraying them. Lucy and Eustace, two of the army’s leaders, lead the dwarves into a stable.

Inside the stable is a door that, much like the wardrobe in the first book, leads into a world that expands once your feet hit the threshold. This is the Narnian heaven—Aslan’s Country—created by Aslan for all Narnians to peacefully live.

Though it is lit with sunshine, warmth, and good food, the dwarves cannot see, and their eyes are shrouded in darkness.

They have already come up with an anthem for themselves, and they are sticking to it:

“The dwarves are for the dwarves.”

The dwarves mentally reject the heaven Aslan has created, their eyes seeing shadows instead of sunshine and pools of mud where rolling green hills reside. Lucy tries to reason with them, but they grumble and yell,

“We cannot see!” “This is no heaven!”

Aslan appears and offers tables filled with a feast, but it appears rotten to the dwarves, covered in gnats and mold. Aslan offers wine, but the dwarves see it as though it were water swirling with foamy donkey spit.

At this, Lucy asks Aslan to please help the poor dwarves, who have so clearly created a delusion in their minds. Aslan responds with honesty and empathy:

“They will not let us help them. They have chosen cunning instead of belief. They are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.”

C . S. Lewis, the last battle

Have you reached a point where you’re so afraid of being taken in that you cannot be taken out of the prison inside of your mind? Putting this through a practical life lens:

Are you choosing to live in a place where scripture feels like a prison?

A place where following Jesus feels rotten and following your desires feels free?

A place where you have convinced yourself that nothing matters; everything is neutral; living in the in-between is more comfortable?

Recently I know I have slipped into this, and I’m tired of sitting on the fence.

My friends, as C.S. Lewis said: “There is no neutral ground in the universe. Every square inch, every split second, is claimed by God and counterclaimed by Satan.”

When we don’t pursue God, we automatically pursue sin. We automatically fall into a flipped state of mind where darkness is light, and the reverse. This is because we do not have to try to sin as humans. We just have to turn away from God and do what comes most naturally to us.

Do whatever feels good. Believe whatever feels right.

But while the dwarves felt as if they were in darkness and felt as if the feast was rotten, that wasn’t reality. That was the reality they were choosing to believe.

As writer Brenton Dickieson said: “We do not fear hell and its judgment, and we have too weak a desire for Heaven.”

Being an American, I have heard time and time again that everything should be a choice. The common threads that run throughout culture say: “My life, my choice. My body, my choice. My beliefs, my choice,” and this applies to everything…

Except for when it comes to heaven and hell.

When it comes to heaven and hell, no one wants the weight of decision-making anymore. No one has much of an opinion to put in. Everyone insists the topic just doesn’t apply to them; they don’t believe in it.

But I think that the most real things in this life are the topics that we refuse to touch with a ten-foot-pole.

God as Lord; the reality of demonic darkness; the battle between good and evil which rages even now.

People talk about their right to have a choice, but then refuse to admit that their spirit holds a choice too.

Who do you believe? What do you believe? And depending on who you place your trust in, where does that put you when the earth passes away and all that’s left is your spirit before God?

That’s why I’m writing about this; not as a fire and brimstone preacher, but as someone who once lived within the darkness and has had her eyes opened to the light; As someone who lives in the light, but, just as every other Christian, wakes up every day and must choose a side of the fence. I admit that many days I slide to the wrong side and Jesus has to gently pull me back.

I would hope that if I were a Narnian dwarf stuck in disillusionment, someone like Lucy would do her best to tell me the truth.

And so, my friend, there are no more fences to be sat on.

Have you chosen a side of the fence?