So I have this friend and she has the "gift" of smelling people, just like myself. (Not so much body odor.) We both are bent towards "feeling people out" as we meet them. (And not a creepy touching situation.) She has that sixth sense I have with people. Just today she could tell by my body language certain "things" were up with someone. And we have fun together. I can say, "I might cut her," and we both know the feeling I have and have no fear we will do it cause mama needs to stay out of prison.
We discuss things, process through them at about the same level. We are also highly practical for the most part and don't want to waste our time, money, or anyone else's. So in the spirit of our friendship, I'll get to my story...
One day I showed her my three rings and two bracelets I was wearing, held out my arm kind of like a proud child. She genuinely loved all of it. You see I had a game called "Rings on your Fingers" when I was little. The goal was to obtain, and wear, the most shiny rings. Then you've won the game! New jewelery plus honor. It doesn't get much better than that folks. I told her many people might think this display on my arm is tacky, but I need them. I need my shiny things.
And so as an adult, I like to wear shiny things. My mom got me a set of three rings that sparkle. Most people wouldn't wear them together. Simple is sometimes better some might say. As I tried them on all three together mom said, "Carla, they are different colors. You could wear them separately to match your clothes!" But simple, my friends, is not as fun. (And perhaps at that moment I could have mentioned my mother's parrot earrings from the 80's she wore with style- the dangle ones where the birds perched swinging from her ears like they were jammin' to some African beat we clearly can't hear. Yep, those. I didn't go there. But perhaps I got my flair from someone?) I wear all three rings together and maybe they don't match but they blend. They are friends. More like family though. They almost come up to my knuckle and I love it. My hand adorned with sparkly colored beauty. I look at them and smile, and my heart is happy.
I'm attracted to shiny things.
And I realized why. My friend's mom told her that she had been like this her whole life, too. She said there is this bird called a Magpie. They are completely attracted to shiny things, including jewelry. They take shiny trash and make their nests out of it. Always on the lookout for shiny goods. Too shy to pluck your necklace off your neck but given the chance, they might snatch it. And my friend was so proud of her consignment find of black flats with sparkles on the top of them, showing me out of her trunk one day. My fellow magpie.
And things as an adult just seem to make more sense to me. What I like what someone might call "tacky". Something wonderful connects to my inner child and makes me delighted.
As a matter of fact this same friend went shopping for a black dress to wear to a function. She tried one on and knew it was "the one". It was fitted, with a slight flare at the end, which she said wasn't dramatic but she loved it. It will match her magpie shoes. Apparently it pleased her inner princess, too, as she apologetically said she felt like a princess in it. She is drawn to princess-like things just like me.
I am a princess. Holding my head up so my crown doesn't fall. Remembering this body I have is his temple. Made for his glory.
And before you go on thinking I have some big head and way delusional (I pause to say this could be debated, but not this blog), I am adopted into God's family. He is royalty. Therefore I have put on his righteousness. Clothed with his strength. His words and spirit on my life.
And I see on my favorite way to waste time Pinterest, all these blogs with "helpful hints" on what to call your girls, other than princess. Well, we want to support their minds, not just looks. Well, ok. I suppose we have a whole generation of Auroras, Jasmines, Cinderellas, Disney princess crap entitlement going on. And I recognize that. And I suppose I try to hold other roles and delights as well in front of my girls (because if you didn't know kids watch every single move you make). Like my alter ego Superwoman in the gym. That one grunts really and swings sweat like a champ. But you know my muscles may fail me one day. My body parts are going south a bit more every year, too. And as far as I can tell there is no surgeon to rescue the droops. (Although if a "lift" is in God's divine plan for my life we will take "the girls" on vacation.)
My princess status is mine throughout eternity and is entirely derived from my heart status with God. It has nothing to do with looks. Man looks at the outward appearance but God looks at the heart.
I'm not about to deny my daughters the pleasure of acting the way God made them. Choosing the shiniest dress, jewelry, Bonnie Bell chapstick, and even my high heeled shoes I never wear. Twirling, singing, dancing. And they know their mommy loves her makeup and shiny things, too, and I'm proud to be a magpie. Our foundation is in Christ though. And what he thinks matters more than what we see in our reflection or what other people say is "cool".
Adopted into his royalty. Made righteous through his Son. Made alive in the Spirit. We dance, we sing, we twirl, and we love. As royal subjects bought with a price.
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