This post is very personal. It’s a bit more personal than I’m comfortable with, but I think that I should share it anyway because people want to know what this whole experience is like, not just the good parts. Right?
This week was rough. We’re talkin’ curl-up-in-the-fetal-position-cry-myself-to-sleep rough.
I was lonely. Not the kind of lonely that made me want to go home. Not the kind of lonely borne out of self-pity. It was an entirely new kind of lonely. It was isolation. Yes, I have friends here. Yes, I live with people who speak English. Yes, I can call home whenever I want.
But I was still lonely.
Have you ever had an experience of loss (a break-up, death, end of a friendship, etc.) ? Do you remember how it felt like something was literally ripping open your chest? That’s what this felt like, except without the loss.
I emailed by pastor back home asking him to pray with me and for me. I told him that I needed an English-speaking friend that was fully, 100% fluent that I could have an easy conversation with (perhaps even a thoughtful, deep conversation) or I was going to have a meltdown. In typical Chris Green fashion, he encouraged me to embrace the isolation, to lean into God, and to not resent the process.
I’m trying. It’s not easy. And I’m fairly certain I have some more time in this lonliness before I get the friend I so desperately want…if I get the friend.
Upon reflecting on this time, I was reminded of the book The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis (part of The Chronicles of Narnia). In the story, there is a character named Eustace. Lewis writes, “There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.”
He is not very likeable and he doesn’t try to be. He resents the fact that he is in Narnia and that he is stuck on the ship, “The Dawn Treader,” against his will. The crew lands on an island where a dragon lives. Eustace, in attempt to avoid work, stumbles upon the dragon only to discover that it is dying. He decides to tell everyone that he killed the dragon.
Now, as we all know, dragons are hoarders of treasure.
With the dragon dead, Eustace finds that he is surrounded by all sorts of gold and diamonds and jewels. He finds a golden bracelet and puts it as high on his arm as he can so that it won’t come off. Then he falls asleep. When he wakes, he discovers that he has turned into a dragon overnight. This discovery of his dragoned self humbles Eustace and he seeks to make amends with the crew for his behaviour, but that’s difficult since he’s a dragon that can’t talk. It seems that he is set to be a dragon forever now.
But then comes this beautiful scene. Aslan comes to Eustace and tells him to unrobe. Eustace tries to remove the dragon skin several times, but each time he finds that he is just as much a dragon as he was before. Finally, Aslan helps him. The way to remove the dragon skin is deep, painful clawing into the flesh.
This is how Eustace describes it:
“Then the lion said – but I don’t know if it spoke – You will have to let me undress you. I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
“The very first tear he made was so deep and I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know – if you’ve ever picked the scab of a sore place. It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.”
“And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me – I didn’t like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I’d no skin on – and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I’d turned into a boy again.”
All that to say: If I need to be undragoned, so be it. It hurts like a billy-oh, but it is necessary. I cannot undragon myself. If this is part of the process, I welcome it. I don’t want to be a dragon anymore.