The Princess or the Pea?

Some days you know who you are—God’s chosen, His daughter, His beautiful little girl—His princess. It’s on days like these that you walk in confidence, hear God’s voice clearly, encourage others, and even sing praises or songs of joy. Nothing can stop you or get you down. You are on a faith-filled level, and your enemy is many, many basement floors below. Life is good. You’re the princess.

There are other days, though, when you feel squashed, like if one more heavy thing comes your way it will surely crush you flat. What if right now you are walking through one of the hardest, seemingly unending seasons of your life? What happens in these hard times if you lose sight of who you are? You begin to see only your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—but fail to hear the truth that God’s strength is made perfect in weakness. You hear words like hopeless, insignificant, worthless, useless. At times like this, you’re the pea.

But therein lies the great deception—the lie that can turn a princess of the Lord into a pitiful, crushable pea. The lie is this: Circumstances can tell you who you are and how strong you will be, and you don’t have what it takes.

The truth is that if your identity is found in Christ, well…your identity is found in Christ. Only He can tell you who you are. And He says you’re His beloved, His precious one, His princess. And Jesus always echoes the thoughts and intentions of the Father.

Yesterday I awoke—feeling very royal—

Thankful for my subjects, trustworthy and loyal.

And as I climbed (far) down the ladder from my bed,

I couldn’t help but smile and toss my rested head.

I chose the perfect dress for such a perfect day

And went to see my father, to hear what he would say.

He stopped what he was doing and focused just on me.

He said, “My child, you’re beautiful—look at you—don’t you see?

I looked in my father’s mirror, and I could see my beauty—

What’s more, I saw my worth—conceived in love, not duty

I mattered to the king—and he was my own dad!

I couldn’t help but giggle, for such knowledge made me glad.

Today, I woke up grumpy and felt all squished and pressed.

I reasoned that it was because I didn’t get good rest.

But why? What possible reason could explain me feeling blue?

And small, and weak, and burdened—at a loss of what to do?

I squeezed out from my bed (how the blankets felt like lead!),

Then saw at once the struggle—twenty mattresses on my head!

How did I get beneath them, and what had I hoped to do?

Perhaps I’d just forgotten…who had convinced me to?

I went into my dressing room, prepared to dress the part—

But as what? For truly, I didn’t feel like a princess in my heart.

As I stood in front of the mirror, the image I saw wasn’t me.

Instead, I was small, green, and round! Unmistakably, I was a pea!

I ran to my father’s drawing room, knowing he alone could help;

When he calmly asked, “What’s the matter?,” I let out a little yelp.

“Oh, Father, I’m just a disaster! I looked in the mirror…well, see!

I don’t understand my appearance. Just why do I not look like me?”

“My child, what you see is deception; for you’re of a royal bloodline.

What you see in my mirror should confirm that you are undoubtedly mine.

So I can only conclude that the mirror you’re using is flawed—

For the one that your father gave you reveals a daughter of God.”

It all clicked. I’d paid heed to a “servant” who was never a servant to me,

For he’d traded my mirror for a falsehood, knowing full well what I would see.

I’d listened, and I had believed it—the lie of my powerless state;

The profundity of my small value, my future’s bright hopes would negate.

I looked in my father’s kind eyes, and in that mirror saw my reflection.

For dressed in fine robes I stood, regal; my father saw only perfection—

He smiled as he saw me stand straighter--believing in me and so proud;

I’d recognized dupery and malice and burst out from under its shroud

“So what if that fraud should come scheming, perhaps to my mirror (again) fetch?”

“He has no authority, Princess. Pay no mind nor give ear to that wretch.

Instead, you must banish him sternly and put no more stock in his lies,

For you are my beautiful treasure—dignified, strong, and wise.”

I knew what he said was the truth and wondered how I’d failed to see

That I was an heir to the kingdom—a princess!—not a pea.

My father embraced and assured me, “Keep seeking me first with great zeal,

For through you I’ll fulfill my purpose—to proclaim, to set free, and to heal.”

(Isaiah 61; Luke 4)