In The Silver Chair, C. S. Lewis introduces his readers to a Marsh-wiggle named Puddleglum.  He was a peculiar fellow with much to say about worst-case scenarios in even the most mundane things.  He couldn’t even say “Good Morning,” without clarifying that by “good” he didn’t mean it might not turn to rain or snow or fog or some such thing.  And the weather, he says, would be the least of their concern on their winter journey to the North “what with enemies, and mountains, and rivers to cross, and losing our way, and next to nothing to eat, and sore feet, we’ll hardly notice the weather.”¹

Although Puddleglum is a fictional character, he reminds us of some of those real-life people we know who just don’t seem to enjoy anything for fear of what might be awaiting them in the future.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with exercising some common sense (that should sound redundant) but looking for trouble where none exists is a waste of time and energy; and though none of us can predict the future, we can certainly borrow trouble from it (Matt 6:34).

It’s that very trouble that gets in the way of life and robs us of our joy if ever we had any.  I mentioned earlier those real-life Puddleglums who never seem to be happy about anything but have every reason for inexpressible joy.  Yes, I’m thinking about those “grumpy Christians” with their perma-frowns who only and always talk about their troubles – “O woe is me,” I can hear them say – pray for this and pray for that as long as it’s for me, me, me. For all their wallowing and borrowed trouble they simply fail to see He is in their very midst. Sadly, they have forgotten about the blessings they received in Christ (Eph 1:3–14) and in so doing have not only robbed themselves of joy but also forgotten about others along the way.  And who wants to be a grumpy Christian anyway?  Certainly not those on the outside looking in – why would they ever want to be?

So to the Puddleglums, I write: 

Puddleglum, O Puddleglum,
Why dost thou wallow thyself in thee?
O Puddleglum, why dost thou not see?

Puddleglum, O Puddleglum,
Rememberest not the blessings He poured upon thee?
O Puddleglum, how could that be?

O the mercy He shows to thee
O the plans He has for thee
All before you came to be

The Son He sent for thee
To rescue you from your tragedy
And fill your heart with Heaven’s glee

Puddleglum, O Puddleglum,
Pray thee search within thine heart
And find the seal of whose thou art

Look, O Puddleglum, to thy neighbor’s need
And cast your cares upon the Seed
For He is the Word upon which you feed

Love thy God and come to be Puddleglee
Let them see, O let them see
The One who rescued thee

¹ C. S. Lewis, The Silver Chair (New York: HarperCollins, 1953), 68, 72.