Oh, to be a princess. My heart longs for it. It is my unrequited desire. To be rescued rather than to rescue. Instead, I have always been seen as "the strong one", "a toughie"or "the underdog". Self-sufficient. Aloof. Always on the go. Stopping only for snuggle time with my grampy, thumb in mouth, blankie in hand. Even in all my badness (i.e. spitting, hitting, biting, climbing ladders to the roof, cracking him on the head with the paddle...just to name a few)--and maybe that's what he liked best about me, my naughty streak--he loved me just as I was. Even though it would be hard to put that little girl into the "princess" category, I still felt like one when I was with him. Prized. Beloved. A gift.
In my youth, even though I was a rough-and-tumble tomboy, I loved to dress up in lovely gowns and high-heeled shoes. My Aunt Cathy had this old pirate-esque chest filled with jewel-colored gowns of velvet and silken materials, old shoes, jewelry...you name it. We could be anything we wanted to be. And what little girl--no matter how much she loved to climb trees, catch field mice or gartner snakes--didn't want to be the lovely princess waiting for a prince to save her from the evil clutches of the villain? That was always the way the story went, right?! And then they lived happily ever after...The End. Only, that's not how real life works.
Real life is more apt to slap you in the face than to sweep you off your feet and onto the back of a white stallion to ride off into the sunset with the man of your dreams.
I can remember a long-ago hurt which has stuck with me. A moment that I let define me not as a princess, but as the hero. I was playing in the pine forest with my sister and brother. We were up in the trees playing Star Wars. If you know the story, there is only one girl (at least at this time back in 1978/9), Princess Leia. My older sister has dark hair so she argued that with my blonde hair, it only made sense for me to be Luke Skywalker and my brother to be Han Solo to her Leia. It seemed there was always something that caused me to not be the princess.
I am reading Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul again by Stasi and John Eldredge. I read it several years ago and it really spoke to me about how women, too, are created in the image of God and the characteristics of His we carry. It was such a beautiful time to see myself in Him. Made in His image and for a purpose. As Stasi explains, "...don't you recognize that a woman yearns to be seen, and to be thought of as captivating? We desire to possess a beauty that is worth pursuing, worth fighting for, a beauty that is core to who we truly are. We want beauty that can be seen; that can be felt; beauty that affects others; a beauty all our own to unveil." I want to be reminded that no matter the circumstances, God created me, a woman, to be a helpmate (ezer kenegdo). He created me to be in relationship. A partner. A companion. And to seek first Him in all of this to learn what it is to be loved so that I may love others.
What God says about me, about His daughters, is that we are all princesses. Made so because we are heirs of the throne of the King of kings. Lord of lords. He calls me Beloved. Precious. His. While I came into this world knowing the love of a man, my grampy (yesterday was the 10th anniversary of his death), I live each day now knowing the love of the Daddy who knit me in my mother's womb. Who knows everything about me and loves me still. Whose love for me and for all of us is so great that it is the thing that draws us to Him over and over again. It is his love that continues to redeem our past, our hurts, and lays the plans and purposes of hope for the future He has set for us. I no longer long to be a princess. Instead, I embrace that I already am the princess I always longed to be. His princess.
In my youth, even though I was a rough-and-tumble tomboy, I loved to dress up in lovely gowns and high-heeled shoes. My Aunt Cathy had this old pirate-esque chest filled with jewel-colored gowns of velvet and silken materials, old shoes, jewelry...you name it. We could be anything we wanted to be. And what little girl--no matter how much she loved to climb trees, catch field mice or gartner snakes--didn't want to be the lovely princess waiting for a prince to save her from the evil clutches of the villain? That was always the way the story went, right?! And then they lived happily ever after...The End. Only, that's not how real life works.
Real life is more apt to slap you in the face than to sweep you off your feet and onto the back of a white stallion to ride off into the sunset with the man of your dreams.
I can remember a long-ago hurt which has stuck with me. A moment that I let define me not as a princess, but as the hero. I was playing in the pine forest with my sister and brother. We were up in the trees playing Star Wars. If you know the story, there is only one girl (at least at this time back in 1978/9), Princess Leia. My older sister has dark hair so she argued that with my blonde hair, it only made sense for me to be Luke Skywalker and my brother to be Han Solo to her Leia. It seemed there was always something that caused me to not be the princess.
I am reading Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul again by Stasi and John Eldredge. I read it several years ago and it really spoke to me about how women, too, are created in the image of God and the characteristics of His we carry. It was such a beautiful time to see myself in Him. Made in His image and for a purpose. As Stasi explains, "...don't you recognize that a woman yearns to be seen, and to be thought of as captivating? We desire to possess a beauty that is worth pursuing, worth fighting for, a beauty that is core to who we truly are. We want beauty that can be seen; that can be felt; beauty that affects others; a beauty all our own to unveil." I want to be reminded that no matter the circumstances, God created me, a woman, to be a helpmate (ezer kenegdo). He created me to be in relationship. A partner. A companion. And to seek first Him in all of this to learn what it is to be loved so that I may love others.
What God says about me, about His daughters, is that we are all princesses. Made so because we are heirs of the throne of the King of kings. Lord of lords. He calls me Beloved. Precious. His. While I came into this world knowing the love of a man, my grampy (yesterday was the 10th anniversary of his death), I live each day now knowing the love of the Daddy who knit me in my mother's womb. Who knows everything about me and loves me still. Whose love for me and for all of us is so great that it is the thing that draws us to Him over and over again. It is his love that continues to redeem our past, our hurts, and lays the plans and purposes of hope for the future He has set for us. I no longer long to be a princess. Instead, I embrace that I already am the princess I always longed to be. His princess.
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