My daughter just gave me a test on Facebook. I got a 67.
So it’s official. According to the test, I am: “67% princess.” I wasn’t even surprised. There’s not much I won’t glitter or bedazzle and I’m all too okay with people serving me. I was a little bothered that after the test I didn’t win a tiara or anything—because seriously, that was an impressively high score. But the most troubling part? It was wrestling with the next obvious question:
So what is the other 33% of me made of? I find the thought extremely unsettling that one-third of my being is sort of “unspecified.”
When you’ve got a high percentage of princess in you, I probably don’t have to tell you that there’s a lot of potential for drama anyway. In everything. But there’s an especially high drama potential when you start factoring in the distress of having 33% of your identity in some sort of royal limbo.
When you get right down to it, though, I’ll no doubt stay a lot less distressed if I make sure my identity is wrapped up in the real King. His royalty. Not mine. I am who I am because…Jesus. One hundred percent. Long may He reign.
In 1 Timothy 6:15 Christ is called, “the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings, and the Lord of lords,” (HCSB). Other New Testament spots as well tell us that Jesus is the ultimate, definitive King.
Then we’re reminded in 1 Peter 2:9, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His possession, so that you may proclaim the praises of the One who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light,” (HCSB). Wow, my royalty? Confirmed right there. But it’s wholly and only because I am a child of this most magnificent King. And there’s purpose in my royalty: “so that you may proclaim the praises.”
So consider this my royal proclamation. I’m taking my imperial role seriously. I’ll be praising the King until I have no more breath. Until there’s not a glitter-sparkle left in me.
I’m also making peace with my identity by reining in the rule-with-an-iron-scepter part of my princess-ness. Reining instead of reigning. “And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body,” (Colossians 3:15, ESV). “Let Christ rule.” Not me. That’s my noble call. It’s a call to follow my King in humility. To get off my royal high horse and follow His leadership all the way to sacrificial, selfless servanthood.
Christ and His peace ruling. All the percents of my days. All the percents of me.
But for the record, this princess is still keeping some of her drama. I’m not sure how that’s going to work out when paired with the fact that my daughter now wants me to take a super hero test. Still, I figure I don’t even have to do that well on this one. I only need 33%.