"Although the sight of water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn't rush forward and drink. She stood as still as if she had been turned into stone, with her mouth wide open. And she had a very good reason; just on this side of the stream lay the lion.
It lay with its head raised and its two fore-paws out in front of it, like the lions in Trafalgar Square. She knew at once that it had seen her, for it eyes looked straight into hers for a moment and then turned away-- as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.
'If I run away, it'll be after me in a moment,' thought Jill. 'And if I go on, I shall run straight into its mouth.' Anyway, she couldn't have moved if she had tried, and she couldn't take her eyes off it.
How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first.
'If you're thirsty, you may drink.'
They were the first words she had heard since Scrubb had spoken to her on the edge of the cliff. For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken.
Then the voice said again, 'If you are thirsty, come and drink,' and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals talking in that other world, and realized that it was the lion speaking.
Anyway, she had seen its lips move this time, and the voice was not like a man's. It was deeper, wilder, and stronger; a sort of heavy, golden voice. It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but it made her frightened in a rather different way.
'Are you not thirsty?' said the Lion.
'I’m dying of thirst,' said Jill
'Then drink,' said the Lion.
'May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?' said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience. The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
'Will you promise not to—do anything to me, if I do come?' said Jill.
'I make no promise,' said the Lion.
'Do you eat girls?' she said.
'I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,' said the Lion. It didn’t say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
'I daren’t come and drink,' said Jill.
'Then you will die of thirst,' said the Lion.
'Oh dear!' said Jill, coming another step nearer. 'I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.'
'There is no other stream,' said the Lion."
C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair
and then from another book ABOUT c.s. lewis’ narnia series...
"All the best stories which have been told or lived out before this are like dreams compared to the real story that we will all eventually wake up into. That story is one that never ends, 'in which every chapter is better than the one before.'
In other words, heaven is like a story, but one that is better than the best book you have ever read. The hints that Lucy got in the magician's book, or the hints that you get when you read a really great book or have an especially good dream—those all point to the final book.
All earthly stories end, even when they are so good that you wish they would go on and on for thousands of pages more. But this final story will not end. Every chapter is richer, fuller, and more thrilling than the last. Eternal life is the ultimate story.
Every good story foretells this last one in some way. Every good story that is told here on earth has a kind of shadowy reality, but it always taps into a deeper reality and truth.
J. R. R. Tolkien was once asked if he thought that The Lord of the Rings had actually happened somewhere, at some time. He replied, 'One hopes.' Lewis and Tolkien believed that storytelling was much more than just making something up. It was about human writers, as bearers of God's image, imitating God's work of creation.
Even though they cannot create physical things in reality, they can still create worlds that resonate with the truth of God's reality. This is why Lewis said that a good adventure story is truer than a dull history.
The events in the story might not have happened, but it more closely resembles the type of world that God made than a soulless retelling of true events. And when we finally enter heaven we will realize in full how all the best stories were prefiguring that last, greatest story of all...
It is so important for you to devote yourself to reading good stories. Life is too short for bad ones. Learn to read good stories and learn to write good stories too. Practice writing good stories by writing really bad ones, and by showing them to your teachers and parents and friends so they can help you make better stories.
The Christian world needs far more good storytellers than it has. Some of us might be tempted to think that the Christian world needs more theology books instead, but I think that is fundamentally against the spirit of the Bible. The Bible is not a book full of theology and doctrine.
It is a book full of stories, poetry, prophecies, and songs, along with a few doctrinal books. Of course, I am not saying theology and doctrine are unimportant; they are essential. But most of God's word comes to us in the form of story.
Whether they are the parables of Jesus or the great stories of the Old Testament, like David defeating Goliath, Jehoshaphat conquering with the choir in front of the army, the walls of Jericho falling down, the escape from Egypt and the dividing of the Red Sea—they all remind us to think about the Christian life and our relationship to God as a story. We are supposed to live like we are in one of God's stories.
This is why I believe that one of the most important things C. S. Lewis did for the Christian world was to bring back the centrality of storytelling. We do not need to feel guilty about loving these stories. We do not need to think, 'If I were a real Christian I would be reading something more serious instead of these stories.'
Rather, we are supposed to love stories. We are supposed to think in these categories and try out these thought experiments. If you were with King Tirian in The Last Battle, what would you do? If you were sailing on the Dawn Treader, what kind of character would you be?
How would you react in this or that situation? We are continually telling ourselves stories all day long. We convince ourselves that we are a certain kind of character and that our friends and family and other people we meet are other kinds of characters. What kind of story are you telling? Is it true?"
Douglas Wilson, What I Learned in Narnia
and from ann voskamp these words... this story about what to do in hard times...
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
And I run my fingers again under these lines in Habbakuk. Could I do this? What would I do if He asked this? And doesn’t He? Though the fig tree does not bud…. I may not enjoy every moment but every moment I can joy in God. Does He ever leave us?
That’s what it says at the top of the page: Habbakuk. The name means wrestler.
To wrestle with God because the hard times are holy times. To not escape time, but stubbornly, fully embrace time, because this is how we stay engaged with God. When we don’t know how to hang on in hard times, to just grip hard to God.
The only ones who can rest in God are the one who have wrestled with God… I will not let you go until I you bless me.
That is what the pastor said: There is no tighter embrace than the grip of the wrestle.