At the castle gate Caspian’s trumpeter blew a blast and cried, “Open for the King of Narnia, come to visit his trusty and well-beloved servant the governor of the Lone Islands.” In those days everything in the islands was done in a slovenly, slouching manner. Only the little postern opened, and out came a tousled fellow with a dirty old hat on his head instead of a helmet, and a rusty old pike in his hand. He blinked at the flashing figures before him. “You can’t see His Sufficiency. No interviews without appointments ‘cept ‘tween nine ‘n’ ten p.m. second Saturday every month.” . . . But no one took any notice of him. Two of Caspian’s men stepped through the postern and after some struggling with bars and bolts (for everything was rusty) flung both wings of the gate wide open. Then the King and his followers strode into the courtyard. Here a number of the governor’s guards were lounging about and several more (they were mostly wiping their mouths) came tumbling out of various doorways. Though their army was in disgraceful condition, these were fellows who might have fought if they had been led or had known what was happening.

Being the lovers of great stories that we are, we’ve been re-reading The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. And in the process, we’re reading them aloud with our kids each night before the release of the movie Prince Caspian this Friday. This passage from Voyage of the Dawn Treader struck me. I’m not sure what Lewis had in mind or what other critics have probably already written about this section; but for me, it was a powerful picture of what it might be like for the Church when our King returns. And specifically what it might be like for those who have been appointed to lead her. Lewis goes on to describe Caspian’s meeting with the Governor who had been left in the King’s stead to govern the islands.

Caspian then ordered most of his men to remain in the courtyard. He, with Bern and Drinian and four others, went into the hall. Behind a table at the far end with various secretaries about him sat His Sufficiency, the Governor of the Lone Islands. Gumpas was a bilious-looking man with hair that had once been red and was now mostly gray. He glanced up as the strangers entered and then looked down at his papers saying automatically, “No interviews without appointments except between nine and ten p.m. second Saturdays.” . . . “My Lord,” said Caspian, fixing his eyes on Gumpas, “you have not given us quite the welcome we expected. We are the King of Narnia.” “Nothing about it in the correspondence,” said the governor. “Nothing in the minutes. We have not been notified of any such thing. All irregular. Happy to consider any applications — “

Here is a man who has clearly lost sight of the big picture. He is so concerned about his paperwork and his regulations, protocol, councils and meetings that he doesn’t even realize his King is before him. Truth be told, he no longer serves the King. He serves himself and his rules. The chapter later reveals that, in fact, he no longer pays tribute to Narnia or even governs according to it’s laws. He is a merely figurehead. No passion. No vision. No character. No care for Narnia or its King.

And his leadership has affected his people. Even the castle guard has become lazy and unmotivated. They take no pride in their appearance or in doing their work well. In reality, no one really expected the King or cares now that he has returned. They don’t even seem concerned or embarrassed for not being ready. If Caspian himself hadn’t returned, they could have easily been overrun by another ruler - perhaps one with more sinister motives.

An apt warning for us. Our King WILL return. Are we expectant and hopeful? Do our leaders remind us of our King and help us prepare for His return? Are we so consumed with our legalisms and rules that they’ve become more important than the King Himself? Do we worry about protocol and miss the important things like justice and mercy?

It’s Teacher Appreciation Week at our school this week. And, yes, being the good PTA mom that I am, I volunteered to be in charge of it . . . or maybe got volunteered, I’m not sure which. Either is fine because I love doing this sort of thing. And for the first time in years, all of the students were really involved in personally doing various things for their teachers.

Can I just tell you what a transformed place our school has been this week? Teachers are smiling and spilling over with delight. Kids are filled with joy and pride as they’re coming to school with flowers and notes and special items for their teachers. Just this morning, I watched a group of them showering their 2nd grade teacher with hand-written notes. Both giver and receiver were thrilled.

It’s been a great reminder of the power of words. Thoughtful, authentic, well-timed words. Words of love and affirmation can put wind in our sails like nothing else. Their power is so great. The Bible tells us that the tongue is extremely powerful and hard to tame. Untamed, it can utterly destroy. When used well, it transforms and brings life to the barren places of the heart.

We didn’t spend much money on our teachers this week. We just took the time to make them a few meals, spruce up their lounge, and help our kids say “thanks”. The impact has been far-reaching.

The shame of it is that we often need a specific day or well-organized week to give such words. I hope Mother’s Day isn’t the only time I remember to give props to my mom or Teacher Appreciation Week the only time I tell my kids’ teachers how grateful I am for them.  I want to be a woman that chooses her words well day after day. A woman who looks for opportunities to strengthen and give life, not tear down or destroy.