From Thorn to Strength

The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis has stayed with me ever since I first heard it (I cheat by listening to audiobooks). One scene in particular comes to mind often—the man with the lizard.

A traveler appears with a lizard perched on his shoulder, whispering constant doubts and half-truths into his ear. An angel steps forward and offers to kill it. The man hesitates, terrified of losing what feels like part of himself. Finally, he consents. The angel slays the lizard, and to the man’s astonishment, it transforms into a great stallion that carries him into the heights of heaven.

That image pierced me because I, too, carried a lizard. As a kid, I fell into a habitual sin. For a long time, I didn’t even realize it was a sin—until one day I did. The weight of that knowledge crushed me. I tried to fight, but I failed again and again.

In religious education, a teacher once said something that shifted my perspective:

“The addict is closer to God than the stoic. The addict wants something. Once that desire is rightly ordered, he will run after God with the same passion.”

Others told me that the very temptations we face are often the places God most desires for us to grow. They are not meant to destroy us, but to form us.

That’s when the lizard story clicked for me. Temptation is not just a curse to be endured—it is the forge. The battleground where virtue is hammered out. Even when I fell, I could rise, pick up the fight again, and grow stronger.

We all carry lizards. St. Paul himself spoke of a thorn in the flesh that God allowed to remain until the end. The question is not whether temptation will haunt us—it will. The question is how we will meet it.

We can see temptation as crushing, unbearable, and proof of our weakness. Or we can see it as an invitation: a moment to fight, to test our strength, to learn how far we have progressed.

Three Steps to Face Temptation

Name it. Notice when it comes and what triggers it.

Discern it. Can you avoid the trigger, or must you confront it?

Prepare for it. Put guardrails in place. One guardrail I return to often is picturing the Passion of Christ—His loving sacrifice for me—until the temptation shrinks beside His love.

This week, I invite you to walk through those steps with one temptation you face.

And remember: God doesn’t just want to kill your lizard. He wants to turn it into a stallion that carries you higher than you ever thought possible.

Forge Ahead

Anvil: the place of formation.
Arrow: the mission we’re sent on.

The world needs more men formed in virtue. Forward this to a brother who’s ready to grow.