When I read, I occasionally stumble across certain phrases that seem to catch me by the heart. There is such beauty in them—a wild beauty that contains such a depth of truth that it must be explored, pondered, tasted, and then simply rolled across the tongue. Again and again, until you sink into the full force of the meaning contained within.
Is it any wonder that Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia provided me with one such phrase?
Courage, dear heart.
This is taken from one of my favorite scenes from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It may even be one of my favorite scenes in the entire Chronicles of Narnia, though I hesitate to make that claim because I am sure to think of another, better favorite scene later on.
In this scene, Lucy and her fellow voyagers on the Dawn Treader have just entered the darkness that lies around the Island where Dreams come true. Not good dreams, of course—because wouldn’t we all love to visit that place—but true dreams … nightmares.
Once they realize their heading, they instantly swing around and strive to get out. And that’s when the panic sets in, because it seems to take them twice as long to get out as it took them to get in, and they begin to fear that they are trapped. That they will never get out. That they are doomed to forever sail in the fear that haunts the darkness around the Island where Dreams come true.
As a child, I suffered from nightmares, and my dad knew just how to help me. He had introduced me—at a very young age—to Tolkien’s work through nightly read-alouds from The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. So when I became frightened at night, he encouraged me to follow the example of the heroes that I loved and even fashioned a sword for me out of aluminum foil. I promptly named my sword “Sting” and stored my bright blade close beside my bed.
Knowing that my sword was close to hand in case I needed to slay any monsters that emerged from my dreams helped me to sleep at night.
My childhood nightmares are very different from the fears that I find myself in constant battle against today. Fear of failing. Fear of what others will think. Fear of being vulnerable. Fear of what I might lose. So many of these fears—if you could pluck them out of the darkness and force them to stand, cringing, in the clear light of day—would be revealed to be nothing more than incorporeal phantoms. Monsters spun by the wild workings of my own mind.
And yet, in my own mind, they are no less real and fierce, and the fear will not be simply forgotten. It gnaws at me. So I stand, gritting my teeth, staring the fear in the face, and thinking by simply staring at it—standing on my own two feet, fists clenched—I am brave.
But there comes a time when such bravery is not enough. Something more is needed.
Lucy leant her head on the edge of the fighting top and whispered, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now.” The darkness did not grow any less, but she began to feel a little—a very, very little—better.
– The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
In giving me a sword to quiet my nighttime fears, my dad taught me to face them head on. At the same time, however, he also taught me that it is no less courageous or brave to be willing to ask for help. I didn’t have to face fear on my own—brand new weapon, notwithstanding. Like the good father that he was (and still is), he showed me that he would listen whenever I needed him, and he also taught me that my heavenly Father was always listening too.
He taught me that prayer was the best way to combat fears.
Notice in the above passage that the darkness did not grow any less after Lucy called out to Aslan. Often our prayers for help, for strength, and for courage, do not immediately bring about a transformation in our circumstances. But through them we can receive the strength and courage and guidance that we need to live through our circumstances through trusting in God, our Father.
In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Aslan helps Lucy by appearing in the shape of an albatross that descends on a beam of light and guides the ship through the darkness and out into the light of day.
It [the albatross] called out in a strong sweet voice what seemed to be words though no one understood them … But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, “Courage dear heart,” and the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan’s, and with the voice a delicious smell breathed in her face.
– The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Courage, dear heart.
Some days, my heart seems a cold, dead thing in my chest, and the thought of hope beyond the voice of the fears seems as incomprehensible as a flower growing through a snowdrift. Then courage seems the farthest thing from my mind, and the darkness of that terrible island where dreams become reality, seems to cloud my vision.
Have you ever felt the same?
And yet when I can find a moment to sit in stillness and let the Word of God speak peace into my soul, it is as if those very words are whispered into my heart. Courage, dear heart.
And all at once, everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been.
– The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Guided by the albatross, the Dawn Treader emerges from the darkness at last, and there in the light of day, the fears that had haunted them are revealed for exactly what they are: phantoms with no power to harm. And I think that is a beautiful truth: when we are guided through our fears through prayer and reliance on God, our fears are relegated to the place they deserve.
Nothingness.
They all looked. But they saw only bright blue sea and bright blue sky. The Dark Island and the darkness had vanished forever.
– The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
And isn’t that a beautiful thought?
So for now, I will whisper “Courage, dear heart” one last time to you and to me, and pray for us both as we embark into the wild journey that awaits us today.
I think that that scene is truly my favorite in all of the Narnia books – but it’s also true that another great scene may take that spot next time I re-read the series!
I love this post so much. I struggled with a lot of fairly irrational childhood fears, and the fears that I experience today are no less daunting – perhaps more so because they are more reasonable. I love that quote so much, though. When my heart feels frozen and all possibilities seem to end in a precipice, God so often reminds me to rest my soul in his hands and yes, to have courage for the fight. The final victory is already assured!
Thank you for this. Made my day :)
Also, it made me think of this painting, which I’d love to own someday: https://gracelaced.com/products/courage-dear-heart-print
Ooh, so pretty! Yes, I’d love to have some version of this quote to put up on my wall. It’s just such a great reminder.
“And all at once, everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been.” That whole scene has always been one of the most powerful, at least for me.
Same here! It strikes me every time.
Did you know CS Lewis had changed that scene a bit for the American edition but when HarperCollins took over publication in 1994 they decided to ignore his changes and use the earlier text?
I did not know that! That’s interesting. Do you know what the changes were going to be?
I was always tickled to own a British edition until I learned all American editions after 1994 are the same. :) I had always heard Lewis was afraid children would think he was making light of their fears by having the island disappear but quoting Paul F. Ford’s Companion to Narnia:
It is in VDT, in the experience of the DARK ISLAND, that the subject of dreams becomes most vivid, and Lewis considered this so important that he made several substantial changes in the text between the British and old American editions of the book. After the DAWN TREADER emerges from the darkness, the British edition (now the English edition for the world) says: “And all at once everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been. They blinked their eyes and looked about them.” In the old American editions, Lewis deletes these two sentences entirely, thinking perhaps that he was making too little of the reality of which they were afraid. He replaces these sentences with one long, beautiful simile, one of the finest he ever wrote:
And just as there are moments when simply to lie in bed and see the daylight pouring through your window and to hear the cheerful voice of an early postman or milkman down below and to realize that it was only a dream: it wasn’t real, is so heavenly that it was very nearly worth having the nightmare in order to have the joy of waking; so they all felt when they came out of the dark.
This is a major change: Lewis here is highlighting the JOY of waking after a night of FEAR.
The next change comes by way of an omission. Both editions print the expectation the crew has that the ship would be covered with grime and scum. The British edition goes on to say: “And then first one, and then another, began laughing. ‘I reckon we’ve made pretty good fools of ourselves,’ said Rynelf.” The old American editions delete both sentences, thereby removing another denigration of the seriousness of night fears.
When Caspian asks what boon Lord RHOOP wishes the KING to grant, the British edition prints:
‘Never to bring me back there,’ he said. He pointed astern. They all looked. But they saw only bright blue sea and bright blue sky. The Dark Island and the darkness had disappeared forever.
‘Why!’ cried Lord Rhoop. ‘You have destroyed it!’
‘I don’t think it was us,’ said Lucy.
Lewis reconstructs this entirely for the old American editions:
“Never to ask me, nor to let any other ask me, what I have seen during my years on the Dark Island.”
“And easy boon, my Lord,” answered Caspian, and added with a shudder, “Ask you: I should think not. I would give all my treasure not to hear it.”
This is perhaps the greatest difference between the editions. The British edition says that our Dark Islands in life can be destroyed; the old American editions are much more real in their assessments.
Finally the old American editions, having deleted the destruction of the Dark Island, add a parting note about the experience. Both editions print the sentence: “So all afternoon with great joy they sailed south-east with a fair wind.” To this the American editions add the independent clause: “and the hump of darkness grew smaller and smaller astern.”
That’s intriguing. His writing is so true and beautiful. I think that both are true, but at different times – sometimes God brings me out of a terrible experience that will always be there, but I am no longer living in it. But in the end, the darkness will disappear…though perhaps not in this life. I like both versions – thank you so much for sharing!
Oh, wow. Thanks for sharing that! Now I want a copy of both versions! :)
Wonderful post, Gillian! :) So profound, meaningful, and encouraging. I have always loved those parts of the scene, and like you, “Courage, dear heart,” is one of my very favorite Narnia quotes – and it helps to remember it at times when I need it.
I happened upon your post by searching “Take Courage, dear heart.” Such an encouragement to me today. In spite of fears, in the midst of pain and confusion, we look to Aslan and sunlight floods in.