Another Name

Lucy held herself together with sheer will-power until the light was out and she huddled beneath her blanket. Only then did the shocked haze she had felt since returning from Narnia clear. Tears pooled in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. She would never return to Narnia—Aslan had said so. She would never see the trees dancing or hear the fauns playing their flutes or smell the sweet fragrance of Narnian flowers. She would never again run through the familiar woods or sing with the dryads. Cair Paravel, her home of fifteen years, was nothing more than memory now; she would never walk its corridors again.

And she would never see her dear friends again. How could Aslan have taken her home away from her? Lucy clenched her fist in her pillow. He had to know that Narnia meant so much more to her than England. In England she felt out of place and awkward, like she was staying in someone else's home. She wasn't meant for this world, she knew that. Why else would Aslan have brought her to Narnia?

Muffling a scream in her pillow, Lucy let her anger burn. Aslan thought that he knew what was best for her, but did he actually know her that well? she thought in a bout of uncharacteristic harshness. Now, because of him, she would have to live out her days in the bleak country of England, where death was every man's companion. Narnia was life, the home of joy and peace. Yes, they had their dark times, but Aslan continually rescued them. There was no roaring lion in England, Lucy thought bitterly.

Frustrated, Lucy sat up and threw her pillow across the room. Aslan had been with her through everything while she had been in Narnia, and the hope of returning had kept her going during her times away from her beloved country. But now he had abandoned her to the harsh reality of England as just another face in the crowd, while she had been a queen in Narnia. What purpose lay for her in this world? It was full of greed, selfishness, evil, and hate. It was black, pitch black, with no light to be found.

It was desolate, barren of everything that had made Narnia so vibrant. Closing her eyes, Lucy pictured the rolling plains and crystal waterfalls, the laughter and songs. Narnians had hope because Aslan gave it to them, but he was not in England. Lucy shivered at the thought of facing life without Aslan at her side. She wasn't brave enough to endure the trials alone.

"If you were any braver, you would be a lioness." Aslan's words to her when she had found him her second time in Narnia echoed in her ears. But that was with you by my side! Lucy's heart cried. What am I suppose to do without you?

Every time she and her siblings triumphed over their enemy, the credit went to Aslan. They would have failed long ago if not for him. But now he had abandoned them.

"I will be watching you always." Lucy frowned as she recalled what Aslan had told her after she'd asked if he would visit their world. She'd forgotten in the shock that followed her understanding that she would never return. Watching me, she thought sarcastically, and doing nothing?

"In your world, I have another name. You must learn to know me by it. That was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there." Aslan's words taunted her, offering promises just out of reach.

"If you're here, I certainly haven't found you!" Lucy cried aloud in annoyance. But her own words spoken to Peter so long ago came back to her.

"Maybe you weren't looking." She paused, considering. That was actually true. She'd never felt the need to look for Aslan in England. Just then a thought occurred to her. He had said that he was in her world, too. Did that mean he created this world just as he did Narnia?

Lucy stood and paced her room. Why hadn't she ever heard anyone like Aslan mentioned if he was in her world? Surely they knew their own creator. Even the fell creatures of the witch's army knew Aslan as the one who sung the world into existence, though that did not mean they followed him.

But what if England, and the world, didn't know who Aslan was? Lucy stopped pacing. Aslan went by a different name here. They wouldn't recognize him as Aslan, and she didn't know the name he used in England.

Closing her eyes, Lucy thought of the qualities of Aslan that made him who he was.

He gladly gave his life for a guilty person.

He was compassionate.

Loving. Oh, so very loving. Many times Lucy had wondered how he could love her as much as he did. She wasn't perfect. She made mistakes. But he never became angry or frustrated with her.

He was forgiving. He forgave Edmund for his betrayal. He forgave Peter for his doubts.

He was gentle, in both his words and actions.

But he was not a tame lion. He was not passive. He boldly faced evil and destroyed it.

Who, Lucy wondered, in her world fit this description? Who could claim to always be watching over her?

A name came to her, like a breeze washing over her face, and she wondered how she had ever missed it. Maybe it was because she hadn't been ready to admit it.

Once that name was whispered in her ear, joy filled her. Aslan was here, just as he promised, just with a different name. He hadn't abandoned her, and she knew that he would walk with her for the rest of her life. A breeze blew through the window and Lucy turned her face into it. If she concentrated, she could feel his soft mane against her hand and see the kind eyes that always made her want to weep for the love that they expressed.

Staring out the window, Lucy watched the people as they passed, the droop in their shoulders telling of deep sorrow and discouragement. Others smiled and laughed, but there was something missing that had been present in all the laughter in Narnia. Maybe all this world needed was Aslan to shine light in every dark corner.

Someone needed to tell them about him.

Blinking, Lucy came to a sudden realization.

"Is this the reason I'm in England, Aslan?" she whispered. So she could tell the world about the one who would catch them when they fell and carry them when they stumbled? She had an obligation to this world, she understood with sudden clarity. She had seen Aslan and talked to him, and people were desperate for him, even if they didn't know it. After all, there is no life without the author of it. Then, Lucy thought, I will tell them. I will teach them everything I have learned from and about Aslan.

Just with another name.

And it is up to you, dear reader, to discover for yourself what that name is. But here is a hint. He is as much a lamb as he is a lion.