My Favorite Ending

“And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before” (C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle).

That’s what I think heaven will be like. It won’t be the same old same old. It will keep getting better. We won’t just sing the same old songs about God. I believe that there’s so much to learn about an infinite God that we will still be learning new attributes to His character and singing new songs throughout eternity.

Sometimes I envy those who have gone to glory because their faith has now been made sight. They behold with their eyes what they had prayed about and sang about and wrote about and longed for with all their might. I know for me it’s just up the road and around the bend a bit. Whatever happens from here, heaven will be so amazing that whatever I go through to get there will have been worth it.

And Jesus will be there. As much as I long to see those I love who have gone before me, none comes close to the longing in my heart to behold my Savior face to face and hopefully hear the words “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Why I Love Narnia

“But between them and the foot of the sky there was something so white on the green grass that even with their eagles’ eyes they could hardly look at it. They came on and saw that it was a Lamb.

‘Come and have breakfast,’ said the Lamb in its sweet milky voice.

Then they noticed for the first time that there was a fire lit on the grass and fish roasting on it. They sat down and ate the fish, hungry now for the first time for many days. And it was the most delicious food they had ever tasted.

‘Please, Lamb,’ said Lucy, ‘is this the way to Aslan’s country?’

‘Not for you,’ said the Lamb. ‘For you the door into Aslan’s country is from your own world.’

‘What’ said Edmund. ‘Is there a way into Aslan’s country from our world too?’

“There is a way into my country from all the worlds,” said the Lamb; but as he spoke, his snowy white flushed into tawny gold and his size changed and he was Aslan himself, towering above them and scattering light from his mane.

‘Oh, Aslan,’ said Lucy. ‘Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?’

‘I shall be telling you all the time,’ said Aslan. ‘But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder. And now come; I will open the door in the sky and send you to your own land'” (C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader).

I know Narnia isn’t a real place. I also know Narnia represents and stands for so many things that are real. Narnia was Lewis’ way of writing a series of good children’s books, which he thought meant that any adult should be able to pick one up and enjoy it as well as any child. It just so happens that the stories ended up revolving around a Christ-like main figure named Aslan.

I think what I love about the Narnia series is that you see practical truths and lessons taught in a way where real people interact within a fantastical setting with real problems and find ways to solve them that work just as well in the real world. That’s why I also loved the Harry Potter series because it used magic as a metaphor for the challenges of growing from childhood to adulthood.

I still sometimes wish Narnia was real and there was a place where animals could talk. It would be so nice to be able to visit from time to time and come back to this reality with no time having passed. That sounds ideal to me.

But if you don’t know about Narnia, I can’t recommend those books highly enough. The best place to start is with The Magician’s Nephew, the book that starts the series with the creation of Narnia. They may have been written for kids but they’re good for kids of all ages — from 6 to 106. They’re that good.

The Real Country

“Peter,” said Lucy, “where is this, do you suppose?”. . . “If you ask me,” said Edmund, “it’s like somewhere in the Narnian world. Look at those mountains ahead—and the big ice-mountains beyond them. Surely they’re rather like the mountains we used to see from Narnia, the ones up Westward beyond the Waterfall?”. . .

“And yet they’re not like,” said Lucy. “They’re different. They have more colors on them and they look further away than I remembered and they’re more . . . more . . . oh, I don’t know . . .”

“More like the real thing,” said the Lord Digory softly. . . .

“But how can it be?” said Peter. “For Aslan told us older ones that we should never return to Narnia, and here we are.”

“Yes,” said Eustace. “And we saw it all destroyed and the sun put out.”

“And it’s all so different,” said Lucy.

“The Eagle is right,” said the Lord Digory. “Listen, Peter. When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our own world, England and all, is only a shadow or copy of something in Aslan’s real world. You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy. All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as a real thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream.” His voice stirred everyone like a trumpet as he spoke these words: but when he added under his breath “It’s all in Plato, all in Plato: bless me, what do they teach them at these schools!” the older ones laughed. It was so exactly like the sort of thing they had heard him say long ago in that other world where his beard was grey instead of golden. He knew why they were laughing and joined in the laugh himself. But very quickly they all became grave again: for, as you know, there is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes. . . .

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”

From The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis

One day soon. One day soon.

Telling Stories

“Child,’ said the Lion, ‘I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own” (C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy).

I’m beginning to understand that we all have different stories. We also have different seasons and struggles. I am in the middle of a career transition. I overheard where someone else has a parent dealing with a cancer diagnosis. Yet someone else I know has struggled within the past year with mental health issues.

Each story is different. Each struggle is unique. It’s no good for me to compare my story with someone else’s and to either think that mine doesn’t matter because it’s not a potentially terminal diagnosis or that I have it way worse because someone else might have an ingrown toenail.

The Bible doesn’t say God never gives us more than we can handle. Often, it’s way beyond our capacity to bear so that we are forced to lean in on the Lord for daily strength. He does give us grace equal to the struggle. He does promise to be with us in each season.

In each story, the testimony is that God is able. I am in as much need of God’s continual grace and strength as anyone else alive right now on this planet. My need is no more or less than theirs. And my God is equally up to the task.

That’s the beauty of intercessory prayer. I enter into your story and you enter into mine. We share each others burdens and magnify the name of Jesus equally. Sometimes, we can speak words when the other has none or believe for the other when they can’t find the faith at the moment.

The best part is that God is always the hero of our stories and we can rest assured that in every case we know that God works all things together for good and for a happy ending.

Growing Through Obedience

“‘Aslan” said Lucy “you’re bigger’.
‘That is because you are older, little one’ answered he.
‘Not because you are?’
‘I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.’ (C.S. Lewis, Prince Caspian).”

There’s one part in Prince Caspian where Aslan calls out to Lucy to follow him, and to get the others to do the same. The catch is that Lucy is the only one who can see or hear him. The others will have to take her word for it.

That’s the moment where Lucy chooses to trust in Aslan and obey him, even though it might feel like she’s the only one. She has to go even if she goes alone.

That’s what genuine faith looks like. Faithfulness and obedience can be lonely sometimes, especially when so many others are too busy trying to blend in and not make waves to truly follow Jesus. When you are obedient, sometimes your biggest critics will come from inside the Church, not outside.

William Carey, the father of modern missions, faced opposition from other clergymen for wanting to take the gospel to India. Imagine that. Pastors and church leaders not wanting to take the gospel to unreached people. But it happened.

William Carey’s faithfulness made it possible for others to take the gospel around the world, so that heaven could be filled with voices from every tribe and tongue, every skin color and hair color, gathered around the throne as depicted in the book of Revelation.

Obedience might mean standing in the minority for what’s right versus what’s popular. William Penn once said, “Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it.”

In Prince Caspian, Lucy gets the rest to follow her. Some were more willing than others to go, but they all went. None of them could see Aslan until after they had stepped out in faith, but once they were committed to following, they could see him leading the way.

That’s the way faith is sometimes. You can’t see God until you obey what He’s told you to do. Obedience leads to faith being made sight.

A Narnia Moment Brought to You By WordPress

I’m sharing one of my favorite Narnia moments with you from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.

“‘They say Aslan is on the move—perhaps has already landed.’

And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don’t understand but in the dream it feels as if it had some enormous meaning— either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer” (C. S. Lewis, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe).

 

Your Narnia Fix

Here’s a sample out of my favorite of all the Narnia books. You may have a different book that you prefer, but this one is the one I love to read the most when I make my yearly visit to The Chronicles of Narnia.

Enjoy.

“‘And where are we heading for?’ asked Edmund.

‘Well,” said Caspian, ‘that’s rather a long story. Perhaps you remember that when I was a child my usurping uncle Miraz got rid of seven friends of my father’s (who might have taken my part) by sending them off to explore the unknown Eastern Seas beyond the Lone Islands.’

‘Yes,” said Lucy, ‘and none of them ever came back.’

‘Right. Well, on my coronation day, with Aslan’s approval, I swore an oath that, if once I established peace in Narnia, I would sail east myself for a year and a day to find my father’s friends or to learn of their deaths and avenge them if I could. . . . That is my main intention. But Reepicheep here has an even higher hope.’

Everyone’s eyes turned to the Mouse.

‘As high as my spirit,’ it said. ‘Though perhaps as small as my stature. Why should we not come to the very eastern end of the world? And what might we find there? I expect to find Aslan’s own country. It is always from the east, across the sea, that the great Lion comes to us.’

‘I say, that is an idea,’ said Edmund in an awed voice.

‘But do you think,” said Lucy, “Aslan’s country would be that sort of country—I mean, the sort you could ever sail to?’

‘I do not know, Madam,” said Reepicheep. “But there is this. When I was in my cradle, a wood woman, a Dryad, spoke this verse over me:

Where sky and water meet,

Where the waves grow sweet,

Doubt not, Reepicheep,

To find all you seek,

There is the utter East.

“I do not know what it means. But the spell of it has been on me all my life.’

From The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Compiled in A Year with Aslan

Aslan Is on the Move

“They say Aslan is on the move—perhaps has already landed.”

And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don’t understand but in the dream it feels as if it had some enormous meaning— either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.

From The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Compiled in A Year with Aslan

Aslan is on the move.

 

A Little Taste of Narnia

“Son of Adam,” said Aslan, “you have sown well. And you, Narnians, let it be your first care to guard this Tree, for it is your Shield. The Witch of whom I told you has fled far away into the North of the world; she will live on there, growing stronger in dark Magic. But while that tree flourishes she will never come down into Narnia. She dare not come within a hundred miles of the Tree, for its smell, which is joy and life and health to you, is death and horror and despair to her.”

. . . Aslan suddenly swung round his head . . . and fixed his large eyes on the children. “What is it, children?” he said, for he caught them in the very act of whispering and nudging one another.

“Oh—Aslan, sir,” said Digory, turning red, “I forgot to tell you. The Witch has already eaten one of those apples, one of the same kind that Tree grew from.” He hadn’t really said all he was thinking, but Polly at once said it for him. (Digory was always much more afraid than she of looking a fool.)

“So we thought, Aslan,” she said, “that there must be some mistake, and she can’t really mind the smell of those apples.”

“Why do you think that, Daughter of Eve?” asked the Lion.

“Well, she ate one.”

“Child,” he replied, “that is why all the rest are now a horror to her. That is what happens to those who pluck and eat fruits at the wrong time and in the wrong way. The fruit is good, but they loathe it ever after.”

“Oh, I see,” said Polly. “And I suppose because she took it in the wrong way it won’t work for her. I mean it won’t make her always young and all that?”

“Alas,” said Aslan, shaking his head. “It will. Things always work according to their nature. She has won her heart’s desire; she has unwearying strength and endless days like a goddess. But length of days with an evil heart is only length of misery and already she begins to know it. All get what they want; they do not always like it.”

From The Magician’s Nephew
Compiled in A Year with Aslan

I think there are a whole lot of applications you can make from this one little passage, but I’ll leave it to you to figure out what those are.

 

Listening to Your Fears Again

“‘Hush!’ said the other four, for now Aslan had stopped and turned and stood facing them, looking so majestic that they felt as glad as anyone can who feels afraid, and as afraid as anyone can who feels glad. The boys strode forward: Lucy made way for them: Susan and the Dwarf shrank back.

‘Oh, Aslan,’ said King Peter, dropping on one knee and raising the Lion’s heavy paw to his face, ‘I’m so glad. And I’m so sorry. I’ve been leading them wrong ever since we started and especially yesterday morning.’

‘My dear son,’ said Aslan. Then he turned and welcomed Edmund. ‘Well done,” were his words. Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, ‘Susan.’ Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. ‘You have listened to fears, child,’ said Aslan. ‘Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?’

‘A little, Aslan,’ said Susan” (C. S. Lewis, Prince Caspian).

Everyone has fears.  Everyone.

Your fears may tell you that you’re not good enough– and never will be.

Your fears may tell you that people would never want to get to know the real you– and if they did, they wouldn’t like it.

Your fears may tell you that you can never change– and that it’s too late to try anyhow.

Everyone has different kinds of fears, but they all have one thing in common. All that fear is based on a lie. As a pastor once said, FEAR is False Evidence Appearing Real.

Fear leaves out Christ. Fear doesn’t add God into the equation. Fear says that it is totally and completely up to you and that you’re not adequate to the challenge.

That’s partially true. You by yourself are not adequate for the challenge. But the God in you is. And He hasn’t left you to face your fears alone. He has provided a way out and a way through.

Let your fears lead you to the faith that leads you to worship, remembering that God has been faithful in the past and will not fail to do so in the future.