Searching for My Crown

I wrote this post back in March, while I was attending Beth Moore’s Living Beyond Yourself Bible Study at my church. A change in my work schedule kept me from completing that study– and so I decided a few weeks ago to do it again, this time online with those of you who wanted to participate.

I watched the video session that inspired this post again Sunday night and looked back at this post. I realized after reading it that I couldn’t say what’s in my heart any better now than I did then. Couple that with the fact that the wonderful comments left on this post then were (at least temporarily) put in limbo when I moved this blog to WordPress and well, you just need to read it. It’s one of my favorite posts of any I’ve written… So here you go.

My daughter has always known she was a princess.

From the time she could walk, she was reaching for her older sisters’ tiaras and tutus. By three, she had amassed a sizable collection of pint-sized princess dresses and accessories and she didn’t go a single day without them- whether she was fully outfitted as Snow White…

…or opting for a more casual mealtime look in a crown and pink kitten heels.

Even now at the age of six, Punky often comes home from school and heads straight up to her room, returning to the kitchen in Belle’s yellow ballgown or Sleeping Beauty’s pink dress. “I just can’t stand my school clothes,” she’ll say as she sits down daintily for a snack. “This dress is much more beautifuller, don’t you agree?”

“I do,” I say, quietly relieved that Justin Bieber temporary tattoos and iCarly lunchbags are still eclipsed in her mind by the sparkly gems and tulle skirts of Cinderella and Ariel and Tiana.

Overall, though, I have to admit that I’ve grown so used to Punky’s well-documented princess fixation, I’ve come to take it for granted– at least until recently.

I’m doing Beth Moore’s Living Beyond Yourself Bible study right now with a group of women from my church. In this week’s session, Beth talked about doing a book signing for a children’s book she had written. The signing was held in a church courtyard that had been decorated to look like a kingdom, and the children attending the event were asked to dress accordingly. The girls all showed up in their princess gowns, of course, and most of the boys dressed as knights– and what struck Beth was that they all acted so naturally in their royal garb… as if they were wearing the clothes that they should be wearing all the time.

“Have you ever noticed,” Beth asked (and I’m paraphrasing), “that little girls seem to know they were born to be princesses and inherit a kingdom? Ask those very same little girls years down the road if they’re queens, though, and every one of them will shake her head and say, ‘Not me.’ Because somewhere in between those years, life happens.”

And that’s when I got a little teary-eyed. Okay, I got a lot teary-eyed. Because I thought of my own little princess, brimming with confidence, running toward her royal destiny with open arms and a glad heart…

…and it occurred to me for the first time that the experiences ahead of her would very likely steal that crown away.

I resolved in that moment to help my daughter feel worthy of wearing a princess’s robes, long after she’s outgrown them. I resolved to remind her in every way I can as she gets older that she is truly special. Treasured. Loved deeply. Filled with noble attributes. Destined to do great things.

But in order to do that, I have to feel worthy of wearing a crown myself.

Somewhere inside, under layers of disappointment and heartbreak, we all still bear traces of that little girl we once were- the one who was sure, absolutely sure that she was born a princess. Now that we are mothers, there’s never been a better time to dig deep inside ourselves and find her.

She’s now sharing her expertise with her 4-year-old neighbor.

Where’s your crown?