He felt a keen anguish over Barnabas, as he drove slowly down the hill, but reminded himself that, after all, Barnabas was only a dog.
Only a dog? Instantly, he realized where this perverse thought had come from. He'd stood by the cages with his father, surveying in frozen alarm the dead bodies of his entire herd. "There's no use to grieve," his father had said, coldly, "they're only rabbits."
He'd learned that one obstacle to childlike faith in a heavenly father was bitter disappointment in earthly fathers. No, not everyone had that obstacle to faith, which was clearly a favorite of the Enemy, but Miss Sadie had had it, and he had had it and come to terms with it, and forgiven his father, long years ago.
His research for the paper on Lewis revealed this had been a major obstacle for the apologist. One commentator had said, "For years, Lewis had not been able to forgive himself for his failure to love his father, nor had he been able to appropriate God's forgiveness for this sin. But when finally enabled, he was almost incredulous of the peace and the ease he experienced."
~ from At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon







