Royal Son

A Prince was born and it's all over the news. It's captivated America and taken over media headlines.  He's third in line to the throne. His future holds titles and responsibilities: Son of a Duchess, Head of State over numerous nations, Supreme Governor of an entire country's church. Just days old and his future is planned. No questions asked. No earning the titles or losing the status. This Prince was birthed into it like you are birthed into air. It's in His blood. Royalty.

And countless mothers stare in awe at this Majestic Mama- What must it be like- to be her- to birth him. How will she raise him? Will she participate in his schooling? Will she use positive discipline, behavior modification, emotion coaching, or just a royal butt woopin? Will she make him meals or teach table etiquette? Will she share her faith and train him in God's Word and ways? Will they read bedtime stories together and bend the knee to pray each night? Will he call her Mom, Princess, Duchess, Madam?

                                                                                 

What a mighty responsibility.

It all seems like a fairytale and we're thankful it's her story, yet we crave the happy ending; the once upon a time beginning. We exhale with thanksgiving that the expectation's on her, not us. The eyes of the world look and watch, question and consider. He's a Prince and she's his Royal Mother.

But what I may not know, what I might have forgotten, what this Mama is reflecting on today- I'm royal too. My son, he's not just any boy. He's the child of a King. Son of a princess. His future is written in stone- his works fashioned before time began. I bore this boy through water, and God bore him again in the Spirit (John 3:5).

I coddled, cleansed, and kept him safe. I prayed with him. I interceded for him. I taught him grammar, math, manners, and a myriad of dos and don'ts. I've appealed to him with bribes, and beaten him with rods. I've rubbed his back, tickled his pits, and giggled over toots and poop and life's mysterious sounds. And smells.

More than 6,000,000 minutes in my care. Over 4,000 days under my responsibility. 12 years for me to show him love. To teach him truth. To lead him to Jesus. And watch Jesus have His way with a boy named Joseph.

My son is a prince and an heir to the throne. God's throne. An eternal throne. Once upon a time, twelve years ago, he was born. And he will live happily ever after in the presence of God and the hands of his Savior. And what happens in between? This royal Mama lavishes him with affection and dramatic adoration. She corrects him and cries with him, while the Author fills in the gaps. Gaps only He can perfect. Making wrongs right and walking a prince to the door of His courts.

He shaped his inwards parts and covered him in my very womb. That tiny frame was never hidden from God when he was made in secret, skillfully wrought by the Master Maker. His substance was seen before that little face was ever formed. And there's a book. A book containing all his days; fashioned for him when as yet there were none of them (Psalm 139:13-16). The words within speak of my son- that he's of a chosen generation, of a holy nation. Yes, even a royal priesthood! That he's a special person (1 Peter 2:9). Yes, that's my boy. No earning the title or losing the status. My prince was birthed into it like you are birthed into air. It's in His blood. It's through His blood. It's a Royal Blood-Line and an eternal Life-line.

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Belong {Five Minute Friday}

From the big city to to country living. I didn't belong and they put spotted owls in my locker- making sure I knew it.

From heathen background to country church. I belonged to no one but my foolish ways and sinful flesh. They welcomed me and made me theirs. Then His.

From homeland to foreign land. My skin was white and theirs was not. We stuck out and we struck out learning the language and taking chances. But He sent us there and we were about His business; Beautiful Business.

We returned to our home, but something was just not right. Something was different. We were different. And again, we just didn't belong.

Home schooled kids feel left out and alone. They don't belong because this- this is not the way of things. This is the way of shelter children and the 'un 'un-socialized.' But He surrounded us with others who didn't belong, and finally we found our nitch.

Babies that didn't belong at home because drugs and addiction kept mom from showing love. They came to our home. They slept in our rooms, ate from our table, sat in our laps, laughed at our jokes, lived in our lives, fellowshipped in our church, learned about our God. But they didn't belong because their hearts yearned for home.

And none of us really belong because this a temporary place. We long to fit in and we long to be longed for. And on that day, we will belong, dear one.

WE. WILL. BELONG.

(Writing today with the community at Lisa-Jo's where we love to just write without worrying if it's just right or not. Set the timer for five minutes and write on this prompt- Belong. Then come share with us.)

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Beauty-full Business

I expect the beauty to be in the finished product. After you've scraped the popcorn from above, and torn down walls from places uninvited. After the new paint is rolled on, and the shiny counter tops glisten brand new.

I expect the beauty to be seen in the healthy, happy life of marriage and family. When all is well and all are laughing. These things- they are good.

But I saw the beauty in the midst of the ugly. I saw one after another come into that hospital. Into the cold, stale, stench of sickness. They came, they prayed, they anointed, they blessed. This is the work of a beautiful God in an ugly world. And He's at work all around. All the time.

I see the beauty of tearing down walls and scraping old mud. Breaking through layers and layers of colors and years. There's a story behind each one. Many stories. Each one beautiful, because even in the trials and storms, difficulties, and take-my-breath-away failures, He is beautifying His people.

Whether it's plowing into drywall, or plowing into my comfortable little life with plans supposing to go just so, beauty is within and beneath the plastic paint and layers of cover-ups. And sometimes He allows us to be broken up a little or a lot. Either way, there's beauty in there. And this is His business. This is Beauty-full business.

(Writing today with the community at Lisa-Jo's where we love to just write without worrying if it's just right or not. Set the timer for five minutes and write on this prompt- Beautiful. Then come share with us.)

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Craving a good Bible Study? Go here, and here! Promise you won't be disappointed :)