When Only the Lion's Claws Will Do

In C.S. Lewis's The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, the boy Eustace Scrubb falls asleep on a dragon's hoard and wakes to discover he has become a dragon himself. His greed has reshaped him from the outside in. Desperate, Eustace tries to heal himself — scratching at the scales, peeling away layer after layer of dragon skin. Each time he thinks he has broken through, he finds another layer underneath, just as thick and ugly as the one before.

Then Aslan appears. The great lion tells Eustace that he must let Aslan undress him. The lion's claws cut far deeper than Eustace's own scratching ever could. It hurts terribly. But when Aslan finally peels the dragon skin away and plunges Eustace into a pool of clear water, the boy emerges whole — tender-skinned, raw, but himself again.

Most of us have tried to heal ourselves. We peel back one habit, one wound, one resentment, only to find another layer waiting. We read the books, adjust the behavior, rearrange the surface — and still the dragon remains.

The testimony of Scripture is that true healing requires a hand other than our own. "He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by His wounds you have been healed" (1 Peter 2:24).

The claws of grace cut deep. But they are the only claws that cut deep enough.