Are you Susan, or are you Lucy?
I just finished watching Prince Caspian. I loved it.
Tim is gone; I made popcorn and cherry limeade daiquiri(s)*; I sat with my cat on my lap, baby in bed, and watched an interpretation of the second book in one of my favorite ever literary sets.
My dear husband once saw the same on a plane when he hadn't paid for headphones, and therefore thought it was obnoxious because he couldn't take his eyes off of the silent film forced in front of his eyes. I haven't seen it in the two years since it has come out because I like to watch movies with him and don't often watch them by myself.
This was my chance.
This was my chance.
You could argue over a lot of things about the movie as a whole...debate how closely it kept to the book's story, opine whether or not battle scenes were realistic, discuss the role of mainstream media in the Christian 'agenda'...but really, it was fun, told an exciting story, and (I think) closely followed the trajectory of Lewis' original intent in writing the series.
Positive review from me.
What captured me for the entire 2.5 hours had nothing to do with cinematography, writing, or agendas. I was caught up in the roles that the four Pevensie kids play over the course of the books. CS Lewis was a very wise and well-spoken author; the children's personalities (both strengths and weaknesses) are not accidental. They embody the functions filled by individuals throughout the Church...where one is weak, the other is strong. Where one doubts, the other has faith. Where one leads, others follow. Where one fights, another heals. The picture of the Body of Christ moving in this world given to us by Paul in 1 Corinthians couldn't be better exemplified than by this family.
More so, I was stuck on the two characters of Susan and Lucy.
Their relationship has always kind of felt sticky inside of me as I've read, but for some reason the whole picture came into focus for me as I watched tonight.
(Whether it was due to the daiquiris or to my current station as a housey mom you are free to decide on your own).
I'm a little sister. I'm a middle child. I'm even the younger of two middle children. I was a quiet kid who liked reading and playing in the woods. It is really easy for me to sit unnoticed in the role of a Lucy (read: young, unheeded, loopy?, sidelined) in my families, both biological and social.
But in my prouder moments, I fight to be seen as a Susan! I want people to think of me as being in the front of the charge, scheming with the Head of the Army as to how we are going to bring our side the victory, brave enough to take on anything, responsible enough to sit with a bow and take people out from far away. (way better than being up front with all of the swords... )
She is just so much cooler. I sit here watching the movie (which I realize is not real life), fuming (in real life) with jealousy over how unfair it is that Santa brought her a cool bow and arrow set when all I got is this lame knife and bottle of fixer upper juice.
In my secret inside place, I wish I could be the big, upfront fighter who gets to tell all of the little sisters how they can get in line.
In my honest moments, I realize that I am forever a little sister who has been given a kind, compassionate heart and the tools necessary to work towards healing with injured people coming back from the front lines.
The plot point in this movie that brought me to tears wasn't the big victory or the restoration or the presh kiss at the end. It was the moment when the whole fighty-cool crowd came back from their exciting/tragic/hopeful/defeating attack at the castle...to Lucy...sitting by herself in a cave.
I realized...This is how I feel. Like the world around me has been called to this crazy upfront purpose and they're all over the place telling stories of the excitement/tragedy/hope/defeat, and I am sitting by myself in a cave waiting for my turn to help someone out.
I really, truly think that I have been put on this earth to love my husband and baby girl and to serve them as they are grown into God's purpose for them. That's all good stuff.
I really, truly think I am here to encourage and walk alongside women as they navigate the battles and victories of adolescence into adulthood...often working to heal wounds from those battles. That's good stuff.
I have tried to act like I was called into fighter roles for the faith (whatever that even means), but it was not good stuff. I felt like a faker and knew that what I was doing was not loving. Bad stuff.
I love that Lucy is the one that gets Aslan well enough to know where to go looking for him. I love that she is comfortable enough with who he is to roll him over with a hug when she sees him. I love that she knows where the real power is, and that she calls him into the battle instead of picking up her wussy knife and trying to fight by herself. I love that Aslan wins. That's awesome, and my heart is full at the thought.
I don't want to wait in a cave. I want to seek out the Lord's purpose for me in this world while still maintaining an understanding of the unique gifts he has given to me, not pretending that I am made for something that seems cooler at the time.
But I'm still feeling narrow-minded and short-visioned tonight.
I'm frustrated with the wussy knife.
I wish I had a bow and arrow.
It's so much cooler.
Positive review from me.
What captured me for the entire 2.5 hours had nothing to do with cinematography, writing, or agendas. I was caught up in the roles that the four Pevensie kids play over the course of the books. CS Lewis was a very wise and well-spoken author; the children's personalities (both strengths and weaknesses) are not accidental. They embody the functions filled by individuals throughout the Church...where one is weak, the other is strong. Where one doubts, the other has faith. Where one leads, others follow. Where one fights, another heals. The picture of the Body of Christ moving in this world given to us by Paul in 1 Corinthians couldn't be better exemplified than by this family.
More so, I was stuck on the two characters of Susan and Lucy.
Their relationship has always kind of felt sticky inside of me as I've read, but for some reason the whole picture came into focus for me as I watched tonight.
(Whether it was due to the daiquiris or to my current station as a housey mom you are free to decide on your own).
I'm a little sister. I'm a middle child. I'm even the younger of two middle children. I was a quiet kid who liked reading and playing in the woods. It is really easy for me to sit unnoticed in the role of a Lucy (read: young, unheeded, loopy?, sidelined) in my families, both biological and social.
But in my prouder moments, I fight to be seen as a Susan! I want people to think of me as being in the front of the charge, scheming with the Head of the Army as to how we are going to bring our side the victory, brave enough to take on anything, responsible enough to sit with a bow and take people out from far away. (way better than being up front with all of the swords... )
She is just so much cooler. I sit here watching the movie (which I realize is not real life), fuming (in real life) with jealousy over how unfair it is that Santa brought her a cool bow and arrow set when all I got is this lame knife and bottle of fixer upper juice.
In my secret inside place, I wish I could be the big, upfront fighter who gets to tell all of the little sisters how they can get in line.
In my honest moments, I realize that I am forever a little sister who has been given a kind, compassionate heart and the tools necessary to work towards healing with injured people coming back from the front lines.
The plot point in this movie that brought me to tears wasn't the big victory or the restoration or the presh kiss at the end. It was the moment when the whole fighty-cool crowd came back from their exciting/tragic/hopeful/defeating attack at the castle...to Lucy...sitting by herself in a cave.
I realized...This is how I feel. Like the world around me has been called to this crazy upfront purpose and they're all over the place telling stories of the excitement/tragedy/hope/defeat, and I am sitting by myself in a cave waiting for my turn to help someone out.
I really, truly think that I have been put on this earth to love my husband and baby girl and to serve them as they are grown into God's purpose for them. That's all good stuff.
I really, truly think I am here to encourage and walk alongside women as they navigate the battles and victories of adolescence into adulthood...often working to heal wounds from those battles. That's good stuff.
I have tried to act like I was called into fighter roles for the faith (whatever that even means), but it was not good stuff. I felt like a faker and knew that what I was doing was not loving. Bad stuff.
I love that Lucy is the one that gets Aslan well enough to know where to go looking for him. I love that she is comfortable enough with who he is to roll him over with a hug when she sees him. I love that she knows where the real power is, and that she calls him into the battle instead of picking up her wussy knife and trying to fight by herself. I love that Aslan wins. That's awesome, and my heart is full at the thought.
I don't want to wait in a cave. I want to seek out the Lord's purpose for me in this world while still maintaining an understanding of the unique gifts he has given to me, not pretending that I am made for something that seems cooler at the time.
But I'm still feeling narrow-minded and short-visioned tonight.
I'm frustrated with the wussy knife.
I wish I had a bow and arrow.
It's so much cooler.
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