Good day, lovely readers!
I will likely be on hiatus for a while, as I am having shoulder surgery tomorrow morning (all prayers and warm fuzzy wishes welcome!)
But I did want to write a little post for you today (I don’t want you to forget me altogether!)
It is an excerpt from the book I am currently working on.
The book will explore our true identities as women who walk with Christ. Are you just a beggar, desperate for Him? Or are you legit royalty – the Daughter of the Most High King…..that sort of thing. This little snippet is from the 1st chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and I will be back writing the blog as soon as I’m able.
God bless us, every one!
As always, THANK YOU for your readership ❤
….Years after the damage of fatherlessness left me feeling unworthy, God healed my heart. Actually, if I am honest, He is still healing my heart, which has a tendency to hold on to things because they are familiar; and not because they are in my best interest. I trust my Father daily, but it is an ongoing process to give up the hurt.
Very soon after I seriously entertained the concept of being a daughter of the King, I had a really vivid dream.
I was a little girl in full Ren Fair, Princess garb – Tiara, sparkly pink plastic shoes, a dress with layers upon layers of taffeta and satin. I was indeed a princess! Anyone could see I was royalty.
And all around me is the perfection of nature I’ve loved all my life – clear, flowing waters, flowers surrounding me, lush, greenery and this incredible feeling of peace. It was the Garden of Eden!
I make my way to water’s edge to admire the tinkling creek, taking care not to muss my gown or dirty my sparkly shoes.
But oh, OH! MUD!
The mud by the river is so delightfully squishy. I cannot resist stepping in a puddle of it. And before I know it, I’m making elaborate mud pies – all shapes and sizes, decorated with flowers from Eden’s own garden.
I was just lost in the muck, icing my cakes with more squishy mud, adding silken grass leaves and smooth pebbles as garnishes. Soon, I had enough mud pies to open a bakery.
“Look, Papa!” I remember saying.
And then – in one sick moment – I realized that I was a mess. Nobody could tell I was a Princess, so caked in mud was I. Mud encrusted my shoes, and my dress was filthy. I’d dropped my tiara somewhere in the grasses while looking for cake decorations.
Shame and self-loathing started sinking in. The more I focused on my muck, the more everything around me started fading darker and dimmer.
It was then that I started to cry, avoiding the glare of the King, but when I peeped through my muddy fingers, King Jesus smiled widely at me! He scooped me up in wild embrace and held me there until I stopped crying.
He wasn’t about to let a little mud get in between Him and His Daughter!
I can still conjure the feelings I experienced in that amazing, tangible dream. It really made me consider if I believed (deep, deep down) that I am just a little more royal when I get things right and please the father; and a muddy beggar urchin, when I make a big mess. And the truth is – Papa sees through the mud and muck. It is I who focuses too much on the dirt and not enough on the divine.
Do you ever feel unworthy? Have you ever made a mess of your life?
The mud doesn’t get in the way of His love for you, either.
Anyone can see you are Royalty, Daughter.
6 thoughts on “Tiaras and Mudpies (excerpt from “The Beggar Princess”)”
I hope all goes well with your surgery Jana and you have a speedy recovery.
Thanks so much, Ronnie!
God bless 🙂
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When reading your post today my heart was moved when you wrote, when I peeped through my muddy fingers, King Jesus smiled widely at me. This whole weekend has been that same moment for me. As you wrote, held me there till I stopped crying, was when I realized Jesus was there too both Saturday and Sunday.
Take good care of that shoulder. I’m praying for healing love over and through you.
Thank you, my sweet friend. Love you.
Oh, how this comment blesses and touches me! Jesus LOVES his messy little daughters! No perfection required ❤ God bless you, friend.