By Kathryn Butler
When I first read The Voyage of the Dawn Treader in second grade, the ornery Eustace Scrubb’s encounter with Aslan made me catch my breath. I wasn’t raised in the church and so had no language for what C. S. Lewis so exquisitely portrayed, but as I read of Aslan’s rescue of the miserable, cantankerous Eustace from his fate as a dragon, my heart leaped.
When I arrived at this same passage as a follower of Christ 30 years later, I burst into tears. My kids sat on either side of me on the couch and gawked as I struggled to compose myself. “Guys,” I gushed, slapping down the book, “Does this scene remind you of anything?”
My son, who had weathered many such interruptions during our reading of The Chronicles of Narnia, drew a breath and mustered his patience. “Yep, Mom. It’s like Jesus taking away our sins. Now, can we please keep reading?” He popped a piece of granola bar into his mouth as my cue to journey onward. We carried on, but the moment—and the fresh reminder of the gospel it afforded, like a spring breeze through a window—lingered with me for weeks afterward. Read More
When I arrived at this same passage as a follower of Christ 30 years later, I burst into tears. My kids sat on either side of me on the couch and gawked as I struggled to compose myself. “Guys,” I gushed, slapping down the book, “Does this scene remind you of anything?”
My son, who had weathered many such interruptions during our reading of The Chronicles of Narnia, drew a breath and mustered his patience. “Yep, Mom. It’s like Jesus taking away our sins. Now, can we please keep reading?” He popped a piece of granola bar into his mouth as my cue to journey onward. We carried on, but the moment—and the fresh reminder of the gospel it afforded, like a spring breeze through a window—lingered with me for weeks afterward. Read More
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