The Great Aslan

I got to read the newsletter of Garricks orphanage today and saw that one of the little boys in his room was adopted. My heart leapt with joy as it does every time they announce an adoption. Joy for this child and parents as they get to go become a family. A child who once had no one now has someone, who now belongs...

But then, of course, the Mama in me goes straight to my son. To think of Garrick on the other side of the world watching his little friends get adopted while he sits and waits for his family to come get him fills me with overwhelming sadness. To know that he has lost another friend that he will most likely never see again is another loss in my child's story. Another break in his already battered and bruised heart.

Once again I can do nothing but put my trust in the Lord and hold on to his promises.

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds- Psalm 147:3

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.- Psalm 34:18

I grew up reading the Narnia books by C.S. Lewis. To this day I get bored reading books that do not have a fairytale or fantasy component to them. There is a passage from the third book in the series, A Horse and His Boy, where a little orphan named Shasta encounters Aslan the lion but he cannot see that he is a lion due to the fog. He tells how he had been orphaned at a young age and raised by a stern fisherman. How he had then escaped. How he and his companions had been pursued by lions at least twice, and how one lion had actually gotten to Aravis (his friend) and wounded her. He tells about all the other dangers they have faced on their journey to Narnia. And he also tells about their trek through the desert and how terribly hungry and thirsty and exhausted he is.

“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice.

“Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?” said Shasta.

“There was only one lion,” said the Voice.

“What on earth do you mean? I’ve just told you there were at least two the first night, and—”

“There was only one: but he was swift of foot.”

“How do you know?”

“I was the lion.” And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

The Lord is the lion protecting my son and guiding his steps. During my moments of fear, doubt and need for control I have to constantly say to myself in the words of C.S. Lewis:

“But courage, child: we are all between the paws of the true Aslan.”