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| Taken by Beth Herrington Kruprzak |
Each winter break, I return to a familiar and beloved tradition: watching the Chronicles of Narnia films and rereading the books that have shaped my imagination since childhood. I’ll confess—I’ve likely read the series more than twenty times. And yet, with every new year and every new season of life, the stories speak again with fresh clarity.
One title in Narnia has always stood out to me: Daughter of Eve.
In Narnia, to be called a Daughter of Eve is to be named according to origin and inheritance. Eve represents both glory and fall—created good, capable of love and wisdom, yet vulnerable to deception when she steps outside of God’s truth. Woman, like man, was created for obedience to God before autonomy, for stewardship rather than domination.
As we step into a new year, full of plans, goals, and hopes, the Daughters of Eve in Narnia—and the first Daughter of Eve in Scripture—offer us a steady, hopeful vision for how to walk forward faithfully.
One of the quiet strengths of the Daughters of Eve is memory. They remember Aslan’s presence, the old stories, and the weight of the promises—even when others doubt or forget. Lucy, especially, becomes a living repository of truth. When others question what she knows to be real, she remembers anyway. The Daughter of Eve who remembers rightly becomes a compass for others.
As women today, we are surrounded by noise—opinions, expectations, and ever-shifting definitions of success and identity. Entering a new year requires discernment. Like Lucy, we are called to remember what God has already spoken, even when it sets us apart.
Lucy’s desires are strong. She longs for Aslan, for Narnia restored, for goodness to prevail. But her desires are consistently submitted to obedience. When Aslan tells her to follow Him alone in Prince Caspian, she obeys—even when it isolates her. Lucy models true discipleship—obedience that sharpens desire rather than suppressing it. Her leadership does not come from asserting herself, but from aligning herself with Aslan.
Susan’s story, by contrast, is more painful. Her desire shifts toward comfort, reputation, and a version of maturity shaped by the world. Susan’s tragedy is not femininity—it is forgetfulness of what the truth is.
This tension is deeply familiar as we enter a new year. When desire detaches from truth, faith slowly erodes. The Daughter of Eve who stops listening to Aslan does not become free—she becomes lost. The Stone Table in Narnia represents foundational truth—moral law, sacrifice, and justice. In Narnia, love fulfills the law, but never without a great cost. Lucy and Susan are present and faithful witnesses as Aslan gives His life. (I’ll admit—I am always the blubbering woman in the corner when the mice begin to chew Aslan free and we see His return.) And the the Daughters of Eve are there to witness the return of Aslan.
When I think about the very first Daughter of Eve—Eve herself—what stands out most is this: she never struggled with identity.
Eve did not wonder who she was or why she was here. God Himself formed her with intention and purpose.
Then the LORD God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him. — Genesis 3:15, ESV
This verse is the very first glimpse of the gospel. From Eve’s lineage would come the Savior—Jesus Christ—who would crush the serpent’s head once and for all.
Even after the fall, Eve’s story does not end in shame, but in hope.
“The man called his wife’s name Eve, because she was the mother of all living.” — Genesis 3:20, ESV
There is quiet strength in that moment. Eve’s identity was not erased by her failure—it was redeemed through God’s promise.
As we step into a new year, we live in a world full of shifting definitions—of womanhood, truth, and purpose. Eve’s story reminds us that our identity was never meant to be found in culture, performance, or perception. It is found in our Creator.
Like Eve, we are God’s design—created on purpose, with purpose, and for His glory. Like Lucy, we are called to remember what is true. Like the faithful queens of Narnia, we are invited to lead not by control, but by obedience rooted in love.
The enemy still whispers lies—inviting us to redefine ourselves, chase fulfillment outside of God’s boundaries, or question His goodness. But each time we return to God’s Word, we hear the same truth Eve once knew before the fall: we belong to Him.
As Daughters of Eve, may we enter this new year with clear vision, submitted hearts, and steady hope—trusting the deeper magic written by God Himself, fulfilled in Christ, and alive in us today.
Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. — Proverbs 3:5–6, ESV 2:18, ESV*
Eve opened her eyes in a perfect world, unmarked by sin or sorrow. She walked with God. She lived without comparison, confusion, or cultural noise. Her identity was not something she searched for—it was breathed into her by her Creator.
But what Eve did not yet have was experience. She had never encountered deception. The serpent’s whisper was the first lie she had ever heard. And in her innocence, she reasoned that if the fruit looked good, surely it must be good.
But the serpent said to the woman, ‘You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil. — Genesis 3:4–5, ESV
“In all probability the reptile called the serpent was a nobler creature before the Fall than now. The words of our text, so far as they literally concern the serpent, threaten that a change would be brought in him. It has been a sort of speculative opinion that the creature either had wings, or was able to move without creeping upon the earth as it now does.” (Charles Spurgeon)
Mathew Poole says the woman wasn’t surprised at the serpent’s speaking because Adam and Eve had free conversation with angelic beings that often appeared in the form of men. If this is true, it wasn’t so strange to Eve that an angelic being might appear to her in the form of a beautiful pre-curse serpent.
Eve reached for what she believed would bring wisdom and fulfillment—but instead it brought sorrow and separation. And yet, I do not see Eve as a hopeless failure. I see her as the first woman to learn what we all eventually discover: apart from God’s truth, even the most appealing choice can lead us astray.
From the beginning, Satan has tried to undermine God’s people by undermining God’s word. He can undermine just as effectively by getting us to neglect God’s word as by getting us to doubt it. Satan took God’s positive command in Genesis 2:16-17 (Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat) and rephrased it in a purely negative way: “God won’t let you eat of every tree.” We can almost hear Adam telling Eve, “See that tree in the middle of the garden? Don’t touch it or God says we’ll die!” While this is better than saying nothing, what Adam didn’t explain made a vulnerable place where Satan could attack. Satan drew Eve into a discussion with him and planted the seed of doubt about God’s word, and he exposed Eve’s incomplete understanding of God’s word. Now he moves in for the kill, with an outright contradiction of what God said.
The woman saw that the tree was good for food: Eve’s perceptions were partially true and partially false. The tree was not really good for food, though Eve was deceived into thinking it was so. The fruit probably was pleasant to the eyes, though that shouldn’t mean much. And it was only true in Eve’s mind that the tree was desirable to make one wise. Not only did Eve sin but she became the encourager of temptation for Adam. But when Adam ate, he was not deceived as Eve was. Adam sinned with his eyes wide open, in open rebellion against God. When Adam sinned, they died. They passed from immortality to mortality; the principle of death was now introduced. It would be many more years until Adam would breathe his last, but death started working in him and Eve immediately, and they could feel it. Something was wrong, something was missing, something had to be covered up.
Since the sin of Adam, death has completely reigned over humanity (Romans 5:17). Everyone who is born dies. No one survives. When a baby is born, it isn’t a question of whether the baby will live or die. The only question is when. Adam and Eve must have been terrified as this once-beautiful creature called a serpent was transformed into the creeping, slithering, hissing snake we know today. They must have thought, “It’s our turn next!”
So, Adam and Eve lied, trying to cover themselves with fig leaves. Even in Eve’s failure, God did not abandon her. He clothed her. And He spoke a promise.
“I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” — Genesis 3:15
For God to see the defeat of Satan at Satan’s first attempt of victory shows God knew what He was doing all along. God’s plan wasn’t defeated when Adam and Eve sinned because God’s plan was to bring forth something greater than man in the innocence of Eden. God wanted more than an innocent woman; His plan was to bring forth redeemed Daughters of Eve.
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