Last Battle

Tonight, I wanted to go to Narnia.

I spent some time tonight watching the new trailer for the upcoming film and re-reading The Last Battle.

I must say, it made me homesick.

Growing up, I was what any sane and normal person would call "a freak." I was obsessed with Narnia -- the land, the people, and most of all, the great Lion.

I spent hours reading the books, loosing myself in the descriptions of a world with endless snow without Christmas, filled with talking animals and a lamppost that grew from an English iron bar.

I watched and re-watched the old, classic BBC movies, dreaming of the day that a painting would spring to life or that the back of my parents' old metal wardrobe in the basement would open up and let me in.

I can remember touching the back of my closet, closing my eyes, and begging that Aslan would take me into His world. Just once...

Today, as I was reading The Last Battle, I found myself pining for Narnia once again.

In times of trouble and sorrow, I ached to bury my hands in the golden mane of Aslan and find the security that Lucy did in her own periods of emotional struggle or familial confusion.

But then, I reached the last sentences.

"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning." And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion...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 least 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."

It was then that I realized.

Aslan is more than just a golden-haired Lion with the power to cast away winter's cold grasp with the shake of his mane.

He's a nail-scarred Man who stands at the gates of Heaven -- His Kingdom -- just waiting for me to run to Him and throw my weary arms around His neck.

THE DREAM IS ENDED.

THIS IS THE MORNING.