Thursday, February 17, 2011

Royalty

I've been meditating on what it means to be a Queen. The term has become a bit cliche, especially in Afro-centric circles...its nothing new for women to call themselves, and be called by others, "Queen."

But it is not merely a term of endearment evoking a sense of arrogant entitlement. Literally, God calls us his royal priesthood, (1 Peter 2:9) and tells us we are a chosen people.

Years ago I read a book by T.D. Jakes called The Lady, Her Lover, and Her Lord that literally changed. my. life. It was published in 2000, well before Jakes became famous for his best-selling, Woman Thou Art Loosed. I couldn't tell you key points from the book (I just ordered it from Amazon.com to re-read) but I can recall with longing recollection how God used that book to deliver me from a then sub-standard lifestyle.

In the decade that has passed since that book transformed my life, I've noticed a slow, subtle decline in my awareness of my royal status. I can be honest with myself and admit that somewhere along the recent way, I began to make choices that were not in my royal interest in order that I would fit in with popular culture. I actually wanted to be normal. I grew weary of maintaining royal standards of living that set one apart in ways that alienate you from others, from life itself it seemed. So I traded in my crown. I rejected my special God-given status as Queen and disguised myself as average. Just. like. everybody. else. It was a lie. But it was pretty easy to pull off. In a world of average, few questioned me.

What I have come to see in recent months as God slowly and painfully strips me of all the dust I've collected as I've traveled through common mans land, is that my resistance to being set apart from others and perceived as uppity or self-righteous has left me so utterly wounded, I feel nearly useless. And if I feel useless, how can I ever act out my God-given purpose and influence the land for good. If I feel useless, how can I accept God's ever-abiding love for me, without which it is impossible to even love myself, let alone love anyone else.

It is true, to be a Lady of the royal court, there are certain known restrictions on what type of activities you can engage in. And not everyone is admitted entry into a Lady's court, her inner circle.
I love period films, and historical fiction. Most recently, the movie The King's Speech, made me really consider the weight of royalty. People who are born into royalty do not ask for such a life. It is a calling that befalls them. It is an unsolicited birthright. It is fraught with great expectations. To choose self over position is almost never done. To be royal is to lead a life of duty, honor, and utmost reverence for tradition.

In a heavenly sense, to be royal is similar, but the driving force of the royal life is Love. As women called holy, we are the Beloved of God. So first and fore-mostly, to be royal is to lead a life of love, accepting how aggressively we are loved by God...and doing the best humanly possible to love our Lover back. And this is a most difficult undertaking. It requires extreme intention (and discipline) to love a God who mercifully loves us when our lives are filled with regret, when we are overwhelmed by shame as a result of thoughtless choices we've made that place us far, far, far below our calling.

To be Queen in God's heavenly royal court is more challenging than say, to be Queen of England. Her royal highness has the luxury of being surrounded by actual people who hold her accountable for every action she makes. Having that kind of accountability really does help order your steps.
But the truth is, in our modern world we are not without the option of creating an accountable court. I am blessed to have so many women of magnificent stature supporting me right now, encouraging me in the way of righteousness, nursing me back to royal health. Except they didn't appear out of no where. I prayed for them. I sought them out. I incline my heart to be open to their wisdom and advice. And to do so means then that I am vulnerable to rebuke, to judgment, to having someone shine a light on the dirty, dark places of my self I work over time to hide from the world.

See, that's the thing.

A Queen cannot hide.
That is one luxury, of all luxuries on earth and in heaven, she is not privy to.

And that hands down must be the most challenging aspect of accepting our Crown.

Fitting. The moon is Full again as I write. I've written before about how when a moon is Full she is fully exposed to the world. All her dark spots, all her craters. But my God, how she shines.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Safety Measures

I care a great deal about others, but at present there's an air of selfishness surrounding me in order to protect myself from something. Suffering, maybe?
I haven't been able to figure out, neither through prayer nor reflection, if this is a safe position for me to maintain.

Safe? Not usually a word I take much interest in.
I had a tough conversation with a girlfriend a few weeks ago. She'd been vacillating between moving out of an apartment she'd lived in for five years and into a new place, in an entirely new neighborhood, away from the community she'd established for herself. My nature, being quick to assume, figured she was just scared to make a change. It would be natural, right?
Until we dug more together and got at the root of our differing perspectives.
I believe we all have a value system inherent in our make-up, a way of ordering our basic needs, those factors by which we construct a good life. I came to understand in listening to my friend who was insistent that she was not simply afraid, that at the top of her pyramid of values was Security. Moving wasn't worth the risk of abandoning her known world - neighbors who could look after her cat, easy access to her church community, etc.
I came to see that at the top of my value pyramid is Freedom. I cherish the freedom to move above all.

I spent two weeks in Paris alone. But within that short time I managed to create a whole new world for myself. A new neighborhood coffee buddy, a new lunch date, a new best friend (complete with two adorable kids), a new crush (essential ;), a new church home. I tend to build a support system quickly wherever I go, so moving becomes fairly inconsequential. Sure, there are comforts I prefer. Access to clean food, a local church, a good indie film theater, for example. But safety, well, that's never really been my style. Typically, when I start feeling safe, or notice a pattern of living safely, that's when I get freaked out and need to shake things up a bit. Security in life, I figure that's a later business venture. Right now, I'm on serious gypsy status.

Years ago a friend tells me, "Don't mistake your seeking God for selfishness." I often reflect on these words she shared...at the time perceiving they came more from the Spirit of God, than her own. But I'm often still uncertain about how to discern what is my own, what is God's. I struggle with feelings of my own selfishness, as much as I struggle with feelings of compassion for others who struggle.

This morning I read a reflection from Henri Nouwen, one of my fave authors and Christian spiritual thinkers. "Joy," he says, "is hidden in compassion." And he defines compassion as meaning literally, "to suffer with."
There have been certain instances in my life where I have absolutely walked away from another's suffering. But probably more moments when I have walked in solidarity. It is not safe to be present to another's pain, to live in solidarity with their weakness, or brokenness. If you are truly being present to another, their suffering does affect you. It is not a safe position to take, but it is Christ.

One of my favorite stories is from C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Susan and Lucy listen as Mr. and Mrs. Beaver tell them about Aslan, the Lion, the King, whom they are soon to encounter. Mrs. Beaver gives quite the intimidating account of his stature. Susan responds with apprehension asking, "Oooh! Is he--quite safe?"
"Safe?" Mr. Beaver responds emphatically, "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe, but he's good."