AUTHOR Greg Koukl
PUBLISHED ON 09/01/2022

Years ago, I sat on a short bench in a small stone church on the outskirts of Oxford. In a tiny graveyard outside was a flat tombstone with the name “Clive Staples Lewis” etched into the granite.

The pew my wife and I were sitting in was the same place C.S. Lewis occupied with his brother Warnie every Sunday morning for decades as they worshiped together at Trinity Church.

Continue reading here.