If you’ve known me for any significant time at all, you know that I love Lucy.
Lucy Pevensie, that is.
For those who may not know, Lucy is the youngest of the four Pevensie siblings, the main protagonists of C.S. Lewis’s Narnia books. And Lucy, really, is the one that is most important of all. Little Lucy, the one who sees Narnia before all the others, the one who encounters Aslan and hears His voice when the others do not, the one who believes despite all odds.
I love her so much. I love her because I am her, or at least, I’ve decided to be her, to look at life through a Lucy lens, to cling with a foolish childlike hope to what I know is real even though I cannot see it and to believe that Aslan will always come through, even if it seems He has been gone for a hundred years.
If you wonder why this website exists, it’s because I’m Lucy. If you wonder where the idea for my book, The Footsteps of a Dreamer, came from, it’s because I’m stubbornly LUCY. It’s because from my youth God has allowed me to see what is real behind my “reality” and to believe that He has something great, something marvelous, something beyond imagination waiting just past the veil. I’ll tell you a secret – even Jesus sometimes calls me His “Little Lucy”, because it is HE who has made me this way. He is the One that has built this Lucy-ness inside of me, the One who has told me that this is who I am, the One who has graced me with the ability to dream and to believe and to fight despair against all odds and hold on to hope even when all seems lost.
And you know what? This Lucy call is not just for me – it is meant for you, too. Why? Because a Lucy heart is the kind of heart that is able to remain filled with faith even when all seems bleak, and – don’t you know? – faith is the thing that pleases God (see Hebrews 11:6).
So how do we practice this Lucy-heart life? Because gosh, if we do, our lives will be lit up with Narnia-like adventure, for we will see that don’t have to be limited by thinking that what we see is all there is.
I’m so serious right now. I’m not trying to be poetic or cute. I promise you that this isn’t just a fairy tale, it is the reality of our existence: what we see is not all there is. In fact, what we can’t see is what is eternally real. Look at this:
[W]e don’t focus our attention on what is seen but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but the unseen realm is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18 TPT
So what are you preparing yourself for? What are you focusing your attention on, the seen or the unseen? Oh gosh, don’t I know that the seen can be all-consuming – especially when it’s tough and it’s bleak and it’s stealing all your breath (not to mention your time) and you’re not really quite sure how you’re going to get your head above water because of a job or a relationship or a circumstance that has gone so awry that you can’t imagine even having a second to focus on the unseen.
So what do we do? Because though our reality is not the end-all REALITY, it is where we live and we have to keep living here until we are ushered into the very presence of Christ in eternity. So what do we do? What is a Lucy to do with this place?
Guys, here’s the thing about Lucy – she was in her own dark and dingy reality – torn from her family because of a war, sent to the home of some long-lost relative who, though not unkind, was very peculiar and did not engage with these children who had come to stay in his big, dusty house. Lucy was subject to long days of boredom, to scratchy sheets and night-time homesickness, and to the ache of wondering when things would be ok again. But then she glimpsed Narnia. In the midst of one her hum-drum-every-days, she walked through that wardrobe and crunched through the snow and felt the cold of the hundred-year winter seep through her sleeves. She visited with a Faun and heard magical tales and her eyes were opened wide to the beyond.
And then she was back. Straight back there in the brown and grey reality of the Professor’s big house, surrounded by siblings who not only didn’t believe her, but who started to grow concerned when she wouldn’t let go of these “imaginings” of what was beyond the wardrobe.
Has this happened to you? Has Jesus allowed you to see beyond, to taste of the wonder that is right behind the veil, the glorious wonder of the reality of His eternal presence? This wonder has floored me (literally – I have fallen to the floor in awe of His wonder) as He’s worked within me an understanding of His magnificent greatness, of His glorious presence, of His ability to transport me onto the streets of the Kingdom to which I truly belong even when I’m sitting in my own little grey chair in my own little red-brick house. He’s shown me the real and sometimes my relentlessly believing wonder has made the people around me not only question whether what I say I’ve seen and known is true, but has even caused them to grow concerned about me.
When someone very close to you, someone who even says they share your faith, sees the wonder in your eyes and the eternal passion in your soul and says something along the lines of, “Goodness – you need to calm down, you need to get ahold of yourself, I’m worried about you because this passion you have is a little too much for this world,” well isn’t it tempting to temper the belief? But here’s the thing: If you have TASTED AND SEEN, how on earth are you to remain silent or revert to a dull, passionless existence that only believes in the here and the now?
Lucy was tempted stay away from the wardrobe. Lucy was discouraged by her siblings’ unbelief. But then Lucy made a choice. I like how the movie version portrayed this best…one night, some days after entering Narnia for the first time, she decided to awaken her belief, and to GO TO NARNIA AGAIN.
She had been told she was foolish. She had been asked to please keep her focus, to not lose her head in her childish imaginings, to face reality and not depart from it again. But she had seen the reality of Narnia – and she couldn’t stay away.
So in the middle of the night, she sat up in bed. She looked down at her bedside and saw two options of footwear: slippers or rubber boots. Hesitating for only a second, she slipped her feet into the boots (for there was sure to be snow)…and headed to the wardrobe.
No matter how many times I see this scene, no matter how many times I think about it, every single time this brief moment of choice brings tears to my eyes.
For we have this choice, too.
You can’t live in the reality of the unseen with improper footwear. The Scriptures tell us so clearly:
For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared. Ephesians 6:15, NLT
What is the Good News? It is the redemption of Christ – the One who broke into our reality with the wail of a baby’s cry, God-in-flesh who subjected Himself to the despair of our grey world filled with pain, who took on our sins and our grief and our shame and bore them on His body in horrendous suffering on the cross, and then defeated death and rose again – opening up the gateway between us and God, between us and the Kingdom of Heaven, restoring to us the opportunity to be children of God and to live not as citizens of this world, but as citizens of the Eternal (which is unseen now by our human eyes, but oh can be seen so clearly in the spirit by His Spirit if we just let Him take us there to see). This was the ultimate wardrobe, the actual real rending of our reality in order to give us access into the beyond. And see how Ephesians tell us that these Good-News shoes are PEACE? Because of the reality of eternity, we are equipped to live lives of peace here no matter what we face.
BUT WE HAVE TO PUT THE SHOES ON. We have to make a conscious choice in the middle of our dark nights to put on the peace of the Good News of Christ, of the hope we have in Him, instead of putting on our slippers of despair. These slippers are only good for shuffling to the kitchen and opening up the freezer and easing our pain with something temporary, something that will only comfort for a moment, but will then leave us even more despairing than before.
They certainly will not equip us to “run the race set before us” (Heb. 12:1). Our feet will get cold in the snow of our winters, and we’ll go back to our beds in the kind of deep despair that absolutely is not intended for we who believe.
Trust in the Lord. Have faith, do not despair. Trust in the Lord. Psalm 27:14, GNT
The realities of the eternal are the inheritance for us who are in Christ. These realities are written all over the pages of the Scriptures in the form of the incredible, certain promises of God for His children.
God will provide for your needs. (Phil. 4:19)
You are endlessly Loved. (Lamentations 3:22-23)
You are completely forgiven. (Romans 4:5)
God has a plan for your life. (Jeremiah 29:11)
The Lord will defend you. (Psalm 94:22)
The Lord will heal you. (Psalm 30:2)
You are a child of God, with full rights as an heir. (Romans 8:23)
This list goes on and on – and the promises are yours to claim. Open your eyes to see what is real, beloved. Feel the need, the ache of your here and now, and search the Scriptures to fight the ache with the hope of the Eternal Living Word, which is Christ Himself (John 1:1).
Be Lucy. See the eternal. Dress for the beyond. Speak heaven words. Embark on the adventure. See behind the veil. Take the Savior’s hand and believe what He says and who He is.
“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...Come further up, come further in!” – C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle
We "Lucys" are also the carriers of God-dreams. Do you have a God-dream burning in your heart? Then the message of my book, The Footsteps of a Dreamer, is for you. Check it out on Amazon (CLICK HERE).
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