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The house was freshly cleaned, vacuumed, candle lit. Seven-year-old Abby had taken Tylenol for her fever that kept us home from church and she was resting on the couch with her siblings. The kids were entranced in Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  I was sitting with them, alternately watching my favorite parts and tuning out.

The movie came to the part when Lucy seeks beauty from the book of magic. She desires it so badly she rips out a page to read the spell alone later. She wants to become as beautiful as her sister, but she discovers that in doing so, she wishes herself away completely. Without her, the Pevensie family would never have visited Narnia and met Aslan, who represents Christ. All the things she values most are gone, but she has her beauty.  Aslan appears beside her as she gazes into the mirror, horrified at the vision of what could be. Gently, he reprimands her.

Lucy. You have wished yourself away.

I just wanted to be beautiful like Susan.

You doubt your value, Child.  You must remember who you are.

A tear slipped down my cheek.  Aslan (Jesus) doesn’t assure her that she, too, is beautiful. He doesn’t tell her not to compare. He doesn’t say how foolish the pursuit of beauty is in the end.

You doubt your value, Child. Right to the heart of the matter.  That wise C.S. Lewis knew the snare of women. Our hearts desire beauty and we would believe it gave value, when in fact it only dresses out what is beneath the thin veneer.

Lucy’s character is my favorite. The youngest, the most affectionate, struggling to be bold and follow Aslan sometimes against the wishes of her older siblings. But this is the first time we see her want something other than Aslan, something worldly.

And all He does is remind her of her value.

It’s the kindness of the Lord that leads us to repentance (Rom 2:4).

All the voices in our head that lie are silenced if we choose to believe we have worth.

I had shared some doubts in my own heart to a friend via email earlier in the day.

Wiping the tear away, I looked down to see her response in my inbox. “Down with that voice in your head,” she wrote. “Feed on His faithfulness.”

This I do know for sure: the voices in our head lie. Loudly.

The voice of truth tells me a different story.

Let’s write a different story today, friends.