Doing What We Want
Blog / Produced by The High Calling
C. S. Lewis once advised his godchild, Lucy Barfield, about life. "Remember that there are only three kinds of things anyone need ever do. (1) Things we ought to do; (2) Things we've got to do; (3) Things we like doing. I say this because some people seem to spend so much of their time doing things for none of these reasons. . . . Things you ought to do are things like doing one's work in school, or being nice to other people. Things we've got to do are things like dressing and undressing. . . . Things one likes doing—but of course, I don't know what you like. Perhaps you'll write and tell me one day."
His counsel is wonderfully sound. Some things we have to do—like fixing tires that are leaking air. Some things we ought to do, like saving money for the future and writing letters to people who write to us. Some things we want to do, and each of us knows that personal list.
What fascinates me are things in my life that shift from "ought" to "want," and it is exciting to see how that happens; we learn some "oughts" and do them early on out of duty, then later on they mysteriously become "wants."
In the family where I grew up, we learned from my mother to eat everything served at dinner because we ought to. That included spinach and all kinds of squash, which my mother favored and my dad grew in our garden. But I came to really love these foods, and now I like nothing better than spinach with vinegar and butter or even margarine. The shift from "ought" to "want" came because, through actual experience, I found out how good they are.
Athletic skills are the same. In skiing, for example, even though to a beginner it seems risky and even dangerous, the skier must learn to put his or her weight on the downhill ski. This means shifting the balance of body weight down the fall line of a hill. But later as the skier moves beyond beginner skiing, the strict early rules become the very ingredients of the excitement and joy of downhill skiing.
This is also one of the ways discipleship in the Bible works. Think how Paul teaches us about love in 1 Corinthians 13. First he warns us against choosing various kinds of gifts and behaviors while leaving love out. "If I speak with tongues . . . but have not love, I am nothing . . ." Then he exhorts us to put God's love into action in practical ways simply because we ought to, because it is right: "Love is patient and kind . . . not jealous or boastful, . . . rejoices in truth." Then he affirms to us a wonderful promise—the love of Christ we dared to put into practice because it is right turns out to be durable and dynamic love that "never ends . . ." It is the love that clears the mirror so we can really see. Finally, Paul affirms three grand themes of the gospel—faith, hope, and love—and the profoundest of all is love.
Let me ask the question: How is it that this profound love is validated to me and to others? The validation comes as I dare to put my discovery of the love of Jesus Christ into definite action here and now as my intentional, deliberate choice and practical decision. Then like a skier who trusts his weight to the downhill ski, I have the joy of seeing that the Gospel really works in life. There is no other way to prove the goodness of God but to decide to live within the goodness of God, and just as in skiing, it is validated only when I do it!
If what we have chosen is healthy, then we will either quickly or gradually discover that duty has been replaced by joy. We discover that faithfulness as a way of daily life is not only thoroughly good, but has excellent results, and it becomes doing what we want to do.
His counsel is wonderfully sound. Some things we have to do—like fixing tires that are leaking air. Some things we ought to do, like saving money for the future and writing letters to people who write to us. Some things we want to do, and each of us knows that personal list.
What fascinates me are things in my life that shift from "ought" to "want," and it is exciting to see how that happens; we learn some "oughts" and do them early on out of duty, then later on they mysteriously become "wants."
In the family where I grew up, we learned from my mother to eat everything served at dinner because we ought to. That included spinach and all kinds of squash, which my mother favored and my dad grew in our garden. But I came to really love these foods, and now I like nothing better than spinach with vinegar and butter or even margarine. The shift from "ought" to "want" came because, through actual experience, I found out how good they are.
Athletic skills are the same. In skiing, for example, even though to a beginner it seems risky and even dangerous, the skier must learn to put his or her weight on the downhill ski. This means shifting the balance of body weight down the fall line of a hill. But later as the skier moves beyond beginner skiing, the strict early rules become the very ingredients of the excitement and joy of downhill skiing.
This is also one of the ways discipleship in the Bible works. Think how Paul teaches us about love in 1 Corinthians 13. First he warns us against choosing various kinds of gifts and behaviors while leaving love out. "If I speak with tongues . . . but have not love, I am nothing . . ." Then he exhorts us to put God's love into action in practical ways simply because we ought to, because it is right: "Love is patient and kind . . . not jealous or boastful, . . . rejoices in truth." Then he affirms to us a wonderful promise—the love of Christ we dared to put into practice because it is right turns out to be durable and dynamic love that "never ends . . ." It is the love that clears the mirror so we can really see. Finally, Paul affirms three grand themes of the gospel—faith, hope, and love—and the profoundest of all is love.
Let me ask the question: How is it that this profound love is validated to me and to others? The validation comes as I dare to put my discovery of the love of Jesus Christ into definite action here and now as my intentional, deliberate choice and practical decision. Then like a skier who trusts his weight to the downhill ski, I have the joy of seeing that the Gospel really works in life. There is no other way to prove the goodness of God but to decide to live within the goodness of God, and just as in skiing, it is validated only when I do it!
If what we have chosen is healthy, then we will either quickly or gradually discover that duty has been replaced by joy. We discover that faithfulness as a way of daily life is not only thoroughly good, but has excellent results, and it becomes doing what we want to do.
