A Real-Life Fairy Tale

I have been debating and debating with myself as to what to write about this week. There are so many things running through my mind--things I would like to share, but just can't. I wonder sometimes if it makes a difference to anybody who reads this blog. And then I remember, it makes a difference to me.

I don't usually get super religious here, but bear with me today. I want to share some lessons I've learned this past week about the Prince of Peace.

Like most little girls, I love fairy tales. I love to read them, watch them, and discover them in every day life. And I am not content with leaving out any of the details--just ask my father, who read Cinderella to me every night when I was too young to read it myself. Sometimes, after a long day at work and three exhausting kids, he was so anxious to get me into bed that he would try and skip a few pages here and there. Being the perfectionist child that I was (and still am sometimes), he rarely (if ever) got away with it.

As I grew older and learned how to read on my own (I'm sure to both my parent's delight!), I began a life-long quest to read every fairy tale I could get my hands on. I love the idea of royalty, of quests and adventures, of working to overcome evil, of the triumph of true love.

So believe me when I say I know my stuff when it comes to fairy tales.

This past Christmas, I started thinking about the role of a King. It is a thought that I have been pondering on for weeks now. Sometimes, in fairy tales, kings are portrayed as ignorant, silly, clueless, selfish, or even evil. Other tales portray the king as the gentlest man in the kingdom. He is wise, and kind, and giving. His smile makes everyone who sees it feel better. He solves problems instead of creating them. He loves his sons and daughters and guides them, as well as the members of his kingdom, with  an abundance of fatherly love.

In real life, I don't know what mortal kings are like. I've never been subject to one. but I can tell you that there is a King in my life, and I can tell you what my King is like. He is one of the wise kind--the wisest of all. When you listen to his words, he gives direction, and comfort, and understanding. He is the type of King that doesn't just sit on a throne somewhere--he is out and about among his people, a true servant-leader. He rules with all the gentleness of a quiet shepherd, seeking out the lost or struggling ones, while ruling with an iron hand, giving both justice and mercy an equal priority in the running of his kingdom.

And though I don't see Him, I know He is here. I know He is aware.

When I was a child, I tended to think of Jesus Christ as my brother. That is how my parents and teachers explained Him. I understood that He loved me, and that was enough. As a teenager, I came to know Him as my friend. He brought comfort during those difficult adolescent days of heartbreak, anger, and despair. There were many times I felt His love, and His urging to me to get up and just get going and erase my woes in service to others. As a missionary, I came to know Him as my Savior, my Redeemer from pain and sin. In those dark nights in Denton, when I couldn't sleep more than an hour at a time because my body was in such fiery turmoil, I took comfort in a simple picture on my wall of Him cradling children. In those long days when my hunger was never satisfied and my thirst never quenched (literally), I grew silent and listened for His sandals walking next to me. I knew He was the only one who could understand exactly how I felt; he understood because he had been there. The scriptures said that he felt hunger, thirst, and fatigue--and though I knew what I was experiencing wasn't anything close to what He experienced completely, I knew that He had suffered what I had suffered so that he could give me rest.

Now that I am a wife and a mother and an adult, I understand why they sometimes call him a Father, and us His children. I have glimpsed eternal love. I know the haggard worry of the thought of losing a loved one. I know the responsibility of having a little one's well-being entrusted to you so completely. I know the impossible pain of having to forgive another's weakness, even as your heart is breaking.

And all of these years and experiences have shown me why they call Him a Healer.

He picks up the pieces of our broken hearts. He has the ability to put us back together. In each specific moment of heartbreak, from losing loved ones to facing a debilitating illness to the return of the anxiety attacks of my childhood, He has been there all along, healing, loving, and giving of Himself to make me whole again.

And he does it with a divine majesty that leaves me in awe of His power.

There is a reason He is called the Prince of Peace, the King of Kings.

Fairy tales can't even come close to what He gives me on a daily basis: an understanding of what royalty, divine royalty, really means. In following Him, I find an eternal quest and never-ending adventure. He is the only way to overcome evil, and He invites me to join in the battle, weak and simple as I may be.

But above all, He teaches me what true love is.

And it isn't giving up. And it isn't always covered in flowers and sunshine. And, sometimes, it doesn't feel like the fairy tales that I've grown up on. Sometimes there aren't glass slippers and wheat spun into gold and magic lamps that hold genies and three guaranteed wishes.

But always, always, there is a Prince ready to rescue us. And he doesn't do it with a kiss. He doesn't even do it with a sword. He does it by teaching us how to overcome evil ourselves. He does it by teaching us the true definition of love, little by little, in the everyday moments.

He teaches us that it is giving of yourself, even when everything in you wants to curl up in a ball and cover yourself with a blanket. It is forgoing sleep to soothe a baby's scared cry when she wakes up in pain because her teeth are finally! coming in. It is making dinner and doing the dishes day after day. It is letting a son or daughter leave for a foreign land, entrusting that, somehow, they will be fed and kept safe. It is going to work to provide for a family, even when you would rather just spend all day with them. It is creating a home where love and peace can reside, a fortress against the outside forces of the world. It is making good choices, even when the bad ones are right there in front of you, begging you to give in.

It is understanding that, if you work hard enough and love deeply enough, you have done your part in building up His Kingdom.

And that, my friends, is what real-life fairy tales are made of.