Posts Tagged ‘Narnia’


The darkest day.

I always remember.

The least sunshine. The least light.

Winter solstice.

December 21st.

And after this, I’m counting minutes–approximately two each day–until the hours stretch to bring the golden light of the summer sun. But for now, when I feel more than a little sorry for those Narnians and their ever winter never Christmas. When even the icicles hanging outside the kitchen window, and the layer of ice coating everything else, when even they can’t shine, my brain can feel as cloudy as this murky winter light.

Still, sometimes I see it–the beauty of eternity that begins today. These little souls, my little men, and the treasure that they are.

Other days I hit the floor running,

some crazy dance from room to room,

glancing occasionally at the clock,

and imaging the utter shock

my friends would feel if they ever stopped

and saw the state of this house.

On those days I find myself, at least once,

pausing–the whirlwind of Cheerios and Lego and foam swords  and four little men swirling all around me, a now cold cup of tea in my hand–wondering,

what, oh, what, is going on?

There must be something, something I’m missing,

or it wouldn’t be

like this.

But what?

A little sleep, to be sure.

An intentional effort to count blessings

and sing praise

and speak truth.


All that.

All that, and just a little more time

with Jesus.



Because though I have 2 million distractions, though the crumbs, and the laundry, and the children cry out to my clouded, foggy, weary brain, though the weather is bleak, and though I carry sorrows and disappointments in the deepest chambers of my heart,

none of it

none of it

should be an excuse.

An excuse to raise my voice or declare my dissatisfaction or remain in a dark, murky mood.

Because eternity begins today.

Our eternity began the day we were born.

And for those of us who love Jesus

that means counting those blessings,

speaking those truths,

and no matter how we’re feeling,

choosing to live like Christ.



The new year is coming.

Isn’t that a shock?

And what sort of year, I wonder, is it going to be?

I have my hopes and have my dreams,

but I realize that what I need

more than anything

is to spend more time with The Word.

With Jesus.

Pouring over His commands,

reading and re-reading his life

until His words and His ways and His will,

which are all Him,

become more of who I am, too.

For there is no better way to know what we’re missing.

There is no better way to bring into the darkness of our lives and minds

His perfect light

than to know Jesus.


Let’s remember not just the manger but the cross. The purpose of Christ’s arrival on our planet. The depth of His LOVE.


For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.   ~ John3:16



Love came down at Christmas
Love all lovely, love divine
Love was born at Christmas
Star and angels gave the sign.

Avonlea x

Find me on . . .

Instagram/Facebook/MeWe @happylittlesigh

Happy Little Sigh

Finding beauty in the everyday  ❤

❤ For LITERARY INSPIRATION for Heart & Home & a PERIOD DRAMA in your inbox EVERY Friday sign up here! ❤

Read Full Post »


It’s coming! I’ve heard!

The fourth Narnia film is on it’s way.

No trailer as yet, I’m afraid, so it may be a while.

But, to tide you over, watch



Or for a bit more depth for you literary, bookish types, listen to the podcast



At least there’s time to read the book (or perhaps read it again?) before the film comes out! Best to know if they’ve left out some of the best bits.

Something new to feel happy about 🙂

“You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you,” said the Lion.”  
~ C.S.Lewis, The Silver Chair


You might also be inspired by Mr. Darcy and Me – My Trip to Pemberley


Read Full Post »

A little hunting at my favorite second-hand shop uncovered this treasure . . .


Lock me up in a room with this book

(and a cup, and teapot full of tea),

and I’d be quite content for a good few hours.


Ah, and what ever could I say, when there are images such as these to be poured over?


Part of the magic of living in Scotland was the possibility of getting into one’s car,

and within a few hours, being able to see the home of

Jane Austen,

or Charlotte Bronte,

or C.S. Lewis,

as we did, one lovely April.

We went to Oxford, England,

to Magdalen College of Oxford University,

where C.S. Lewis taught for nearly thirty years.


Anyone can tour it.

See Addison’s Walk along the Cherwell River,

where C.S. Lewis liked to stroll.



And his rooms at the college, now marked by some red geraniums.




 “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy,

the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”
~ C.S. Lewis


“There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

~ C.S. Lewis


You might also be inspired by Start Living Your REAL LIFE Today


Read Full Post »

I don’t go there every night.

Sometimes I’m held up.


For night is the end of another day, another twenty-four hours that seem to have taken me no closer. No closer to my dreams. To my goals. And so in my worry I mull them over.

Dreams, goals, regrets . . .


Dreams for this house, like those black and white photos of the children I want printed out and framed, and the upcycled furniture I’d like when we finally remodel the breakfast room.  I could lie awake for hours planning it all out in my head. As if someday I’ll get there, you know, to my real life, my forever life, where every closet and drawer is organized and my house is decorated like a Pinterest fantasy.

My real life, where I’m fitter and stronger and have smoother skin than I did at eighteen.

My real life, where I have hours every day to sit in the garden and paint, and read, and write, and play with the children, and somehow the cooking, and cleaning, and shopping doesn’t take much time at all.

My real life, as if it’s a place where I’ll one day arrive. As if one day, everything that needs to be done will be done.

CAM01500 CAM01523 CAM01568

It’s easy to forget with all that planning for tomorrow. Easy to forget that my children will never be as young as they are today. That I will never be as young as I am today. That we can never get today back.

It’s easy to fill my days and fill my mind and hold onto these plans, these goals, as if this is all there is.

But then I catch myself. Lying in my bed at night, I remember. I feel the smallness of myself in this universe. The frailty of my body as I lie there on the mattress listening to my baby and my husband breathe. Even if we eat nothing but organic, they are not forever.  I am not forever.  For a while. A good while, I hope, but not forever.

And as a wife and a mother, how could I sleep with that, how could I live with that if I didn’t know. If when my children realize that the end will come for me, for them, and the tears pool in their eyes, I couldn’t lift my little person onto my lap and hold him close and whisper “Yes! Yes!”

And If I didn’t know, if I hadn’t seen, that what He says more than anything is “Fear not.”

“Don’t be afraid!”

And so I go.


Sometimes I creep, when I feel how much I’ve missed the mark. How I’ve let Him down that day. With head hung low I crawl toward Him, always toward Him, because I know He wants me there. That He’s happy, miraculously, not just to welcome the repentant but the reluctant and the angry, too.

I lie there by his feet and soon there comes His hand upon my head. “Daughter.”

Other times I run, through a field of wildflowers and hazy sunlight, my arms outstretched, and I meet Him. I meet the warmth of His robes and the strength of His love, and like a little girl I’m lifted and swung. “Child.”

The colors blur, and I know that’s home. That’s forever.

And there’s peace.

Peace like Lucy clutching Aslan’s mane and burying her face there and knowing it’s going to be all right.

No matter what, I’m safe, and it’s going to be all right.

And what could be more important than having them with me?

There in that field. In those arms. In that eternity.

There, when this house and everything in it, and every worry I ever had will be long gone. There, where everything  will finally be complete and time . . .

well, it will just stand still.

We’re all together, with Him, and time is standing still.


This house—will they even remember? The color of the walls, if the furniture was scratched?

And if they remember, will I let them think it’s worth a wisp of worry?

Or will I reach out and grasp hold of this time, these hours that slip so easily into days and years, and

instead of making lists of all that’s wrong,

make lists of all that’s right?

And will I help my children, and each person beckoned through the doors of this house, to smile over every seen and unseen gift, every finer thing, and to point them, always point them, to the Giver?

And how can I remember where to point unless I keep my eyes there,

always right there

on His face?


For YOUR watches of the night . . .


1Peter 1: 3-9, Psalm 91: 5-9, Psalm 63

You might also be inspired by . . .

It’s One of the (LONDON) Days


Read Full Post »


You blinked and it happened, didn’t it?

Summer flew by.

All those lazy days you planned and enjoyed are gone . . . or never seemed to come about at all.

And you’re not sure how it happened because, why, yesterday was just the fourth of July, and the time was meant to go slower, and the days were meant to be longer, and you’re just not ready to put your child into the next grade up, or go into the next grade yourself.

And you can already feel yourself drooling over tropical islands and craving some vitamin D.

And please don’t anyone mention that C word.


Mmmm . . . that’s right.

But aren’t we all happy when it comes?

I mean, imagine that it didn’t.


Imagine no family, no friends, no gifting, no baking, no singing, no decorations, no lights.

No light.


But there is, and we do.

Have Christmas. Have Light.

Even in winter.

6759890bb24056f0e86bc5f3570130efAnd Light has a name.

“At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.”

~ C.S. Lewis

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe


And Light’s other name is Love.

Love that can get you through the winter.

Or a winter of your soul.

Love that comes after you, with a deafening roar and a mighty leap.

Even if you don’t know it, or you know it and you’re running away.




It will come, no matter how we dig in our heals and will summer to stay.

But lighting our path through to next spring will be the celebration of the birth of a King.

A King who will, one day, make an end to





CAM00463 CAM00465 CAM00466

Journey with me? Into autumn, through the winter, as we look for Love, look for Light?

Avonlea x




Psalm 139:7-12, James 1:17

Read Full Post »

The Thaw Begins

The Thaw Begins – photo by crunklygill

“‘Yes,’ said Queen Lucy. ‘In our world too, a Stable once had something inside it that was bigger than our whole world.'”

—The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis

Read Full Post »

“You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.”    ~ C. S. Lewis

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: