In the children’s
story Sara Crewe by Frances Hodgson
Burnett, the young Sara lives in a boarding school and is suddenly orphaned. The
headmistress begins to treat her as a slave. But Sara has a way of handling the
abuse by imagining she is a princess. She tells herself:
“You don’t know that you are saying these things to a
princess, and that if I chose I could wave my hand and order you to execution.
I only spare you because I am a
princess, and you are a poor, stupid, old, vulgar thing, and don’t know any
better… I am a princess in rags and tatters, but I am a princess, inside. It
would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth-of-gold; it is a
great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it.”
As I was
reflecting on the story and thinking maybe I need to try that tactic sometime,
it hit me that I don’t have to imagine it—it’s already true. I am a child of
the King of kings. I’ve been adopted into the royal family.
“For you did not
receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the
Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba, Father!’ The Spirit himself
bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children,
then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:15-17a ESV).
“He
predestined us for adoption to Himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according
to the purpose of His will” (Ephesians 1:5).
We all need to
remember who we are. Though we probably won’t say it out loud:
- When people are abusive, “I’m a child of the King.”
- When someone says something inconsiderate, “I belong to God.”
- When the world mocks and condemns my faith, “I’m part of the family of God.”
- When suffering seems unending, “I’m loved with an everlasting love.”
- When I mess up and start condemning myself, “I have the righteousness of Christ.”
- When fellow Christians say or do aggravating things, “He or she is my brother or sister in Christ.”
I particularly
like the reminder that it would be easy to be a prince or princess if everyone could
see that’s what we are, but it is a challenge when we outwardly look the same
as any other person. We are sanctified and matured by the process of clinging
to the truth of who God says we are regardless of what the world tells us. It
is a triumph of grace when we can live out of our new identity even when others
can’t understand it.
I can’t end
without a quote from C. S. Lewis:
“It is a serious thing to live in a society of
possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting
person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you
would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as
you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some
degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in
the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the
circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with
one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no
ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures,
arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life
of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and
exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors” (The Weight of Glory).
We may not look or
feel like princes and princesses right now, but if we know God as our Father
that is our true identity.
“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we
should be called children of God; and so we are” (1 John 3:a).
© 2020 Dawn Rutan.
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opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.
