When I was a boy, I always looked forward to our summer trips from San Francisco to West Texas to spend vacation time with extended family. My two younger brothers and I would pile into our un-air-conditioned car, anxious to begin the long trek across the Southwest. At the end of each day’s JOURNEY, the three of us would beeline our way to the hotel pool to re-hydrate—something we really looked forward to after hours of being blasted in the back seat by the hot desert air. These were great adventures filled with the excitement of seeing new places and the extravagance of eating out (something we never did back home).
One year during our JOURNEY, my youngest brother did something completely out of character for his normally compliant nature. Despite a tight budget and strict instructions to the contrary, James defiantly placed the same order every time we stopped to eat. “I’ll have what Dad is having,” he would insist. Apparently, my little brother had noticed that the plate of food placed in front of our father always looked a lot more appealing than the one typically placed in front of him. That was all it took. From then on, all he wanted was what our father was having. At five years of age, my little brother didn’t know much, but he knew that anything Dad ordered would be better than what he knew to order off the Kiddie Menu. Genius!
In a scene from C. S. Lewis’ spiritual allegory, The Chronicles of Narnia, a young girl named Lucy is sent on a great mission by the Christ figure, Aslan, the lion. As she travels by night, she notices the great beast sitting on a hill, illumined by a full moon. Excitedly, Lucy runs to him and throws herself into his soft, silky mane. Aslan rolls over, and Lucy finds herself laying between his paws, looking up into his large face.
“Aslan, you’re bigger,” says Lucy.
The majestic creature answers, “That is because you are older, little one.”
Lucy, confused by this remark, asks, “Not because you are?”
Aslan assures her, “I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
When doubts arise, they do not put a Christian’s salvation in jeopardy. A visitor in Manhattan may decide to take an express elevator to the observation deck of a soaring skyscraper. When he steps on and the elevator begins to move, he has made an irrevocable decision that commits him to the entire vertical JOURNEY. He may be gripped with a sudden panic after 30 seconds...but this does not change the fact that he will safely arrive at the top floor.