We went to see Chronicles of Narnia and I remembered why we worked so well. . .everytime Aslan came on the screen, as silly as it sounds, we both just let the tears run. Isn't it funny that a sweet old children's story can tear at your heart that way? i love the passage in the Dawn Treader book, in which Eustace discovers that he must be transformed not by himself but by Aslan. I remembered my dear Elena friend reading this passage aloud at some point, and when I saw it on the big screen the importance of the moment, as well as its meaning, came flooding back to me. Though we try and try to transform ourselves, scrape away our ugliness, refine and reform, it is to no avail unless Jesus is also a part of this transformation. I can't say it better than C.S. himself (go figure) so if you care to get lost in a little Children's magic, and Christmas magic, read on :
love and merriest of 26th of Decembers,
Well, exactly the same thing happened again. And I thought to myself, oh dear, how ever many skins have I got to take off? For I was longing to bathe my leg. So I scratched away for the third time and got off a third skin, just like the two others, and stepped out of it. But as soon as I looked at myself in the water I knew it had been no good.
The the lion said - but I don't know if it spoke - 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.
The very first tear he made was do deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know - if you've ever picked the scab of a sore place. It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.
Well, he peele the beastly stuff right off - just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt - and there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly-looking than the others had been. And there was Ias smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me - I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on - and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I'd turned into a boy again. You'd think me simply phoney if I told you how I felt about my own arms. I know they've no muscle and are pretty mouldy compared with Caspian's, but I was so glad to see them.