Logically!

Freedom.

I know Jesus healed people full on while they were still alive on this planet, but, admittedly, I have long assumed it'd be my endless battle until I live anew.

Logically, mathematically, that is not the case.

I don't know if you've seen The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe – the one with live action humans, excellent computer graphics, and a really unconvincing lion. (Mufasa's death makes grown men cry. I don't think Aslan's death in that particular movie even ruffles an eyelash, but I digress.)

Near the beginning of the movie, Lucy and Edmund have gone through the wardrobe and experienced some of the wonders of Narnia. Upon their return, Lucy is ecstacic about her adventure and shares her story excitedly. Edmund acts the scab and pretends as though nothing happened, as though they were just pretending.

The four siblings take this dispute to "the professor," the man who is currently boarding them since a war drove them away from their hometown.

The older siblings, Peter and Susan, are describing Lucy's ridiculous story, explaining how she can't have gone through some magical portal. A great conversation ensues:

Susan: I mean logically it's impossible.

Professor: What do they teach you at these schools?

Peter: Edmund said they were only pretending.

Professor: And he's the more truthful one is he?

Peter: No, this would be the first time.

Professor: Well if she's not mad, she's not lying, then logically we must assume she is telling the truth.

In the movie, the professor exhaggerated the word "logically" such that it has stuck in my mind forever.

Often, I try to weasel myself into corners of self-defeat. Granted, I am a sinner saved by grace, but I try to downplay the grace bit rather often. By God's grace, however, I can often recite the professor: "logically!" (British voice and all). It's half amusing, half encouraging how many times I was waddling down some self-hateful path but was given the grace to retort "logically!"

Alllllll this to say, logically, the battle is not necessarily endless. I haven't gotten very far into the literature, but I am compelled by a new epithet for the process: a "pilgrimage." Already, I am relieved. Instead of resigning myself to being bloodied day in and day out, I can humbly walk toward God knowing that it's gradual.