God's little princess

A few years ago some friends who are very concerned and impressed with material possessions began treating us like 3rd world rejects.  We just weren’t ‘good enough’ on so many levels.  My man was oblivious and tried to see the ‘intent of the heart’ in the whole thing.  I was frustrated.  You may say they weren’t really friends when you read this, but they were and are.  Yet so many times they expressed concern if we offered to host anything or they acted like we were too poor to participate in anything worthy.  We are not rich, but we are richer than 98 percent of the world according to one global wealth app.  For awhile we were in the 90+ percentile in the US as well.  Yeah I’m into all the analytical stuff.  I must say, I don’t know where we stand now, and being retired –sort of- I don’t really need to find that out.  Yeah, that was a rabbit trail. 

The point is that these people made me feel needlessly small, unappreciated and unimportant most of the time.  I could have said “Woman up, Donna.  Get over it.”  But really, how do you?  With friends like these, who needs muggers?  Oh, by the way, if a mugger has a gun, does he fire mug shots?  Okay, that’s enough of that, or as some would say “Squirrel, big squirrel.”

It’s hard to feel like a princess when you’re cleaning up poop –figuratively or not.  I’m not a prissy shopper.  I don’t have to have the newest or latest, though I appreciate good quality, nice things.  Frequently, I’d rather make it than buy it, though the making may be as expensive as the buying in some cases.  It’s just who I am and generally speaking, I am okay with how I was crafted.  But some people can make me look around at my world and say ‘Ouch!’  These I mentioned above are like that, though they don’t have the best of everything either.  They name drop, they light up when they see expensive finery and they love titles.  And they notice greatly that we are not part of that system. 

So a couple of years ago, I began seriously praying about my attitude and my Father did something totally unexpected.  Instead of the scriptural reprimand I was expecting, he assured me that he loves me more than I can even start to imagine.  He helped me see that some things he does out of love for me and others are not recognized as love at all by our human reasoning.  He told me I am his princess.  I am the daughter of the great King.  He assured me that he would be with me in life and usher me through the transition to immortal existence when my part of this life is done.

When the slights come, he reminds me to say “I am the daughter of the King.  I am my Father’s child.”  It’s not an arrogant thing, it simply says that regardless of what others think or do, I am loved and I am provided for royally.  If people treat me like a servant, I will own the title and add “Servant of the Most High God.”  If people look down on my art, my craft or my person, well that person can deal with my Papa. 

This has changed the way I view life in general.  It hasn’t changed the way others view me for the most part –though in some cases it has.  In the case mentioned above, it has greatly improved our interaction, though not changed their love of all things exalted.  They see us a bit differently.  AND in those other moments, “I am the daughter of the great King.”

I woke this morning and heard the little dog howling.  She has howled all night for two nights.  So I was heading to let her out when I was met by an incredible stench.  She was leaning against the side of the kennel trying to stay out of the poop.  Her tummy has been upset since they came home.  I let her out, propped open the door to let the smell out, carried as much out into the yard as I could and cleaned the foam tiles under her kennel. I woke her owner to give her a bath while I finished cleaning.  That’s life.  

No, I don’t really feel like a princess when I’m cleaning up poop- real or figurative.  But I know it’s true.  I don’t need a fairy god mother.  I have a heavenly Father and I’m his.  He will work on my behalf.  One day I will meet the Prince when it is time and there will be no rags, no crude furnishings, no poo on the fingers or mud on the face.