I remembered that incident this week when I read something written by Christian blogger Melissa Edgington. She had just returned from Disney World with her family. Her three year old daughter Emerald loved the entire experience, especially the breakfast she had with all of the Disney princesses. She, of course, wore her Cinderella dress for that event in order to fit in with the other royalty. The entire week, even when she was not wearing her royal gown, every employee in the Disney parks called Emerald “Princess.” This may explain the behavior of the little girl we ran into on the airplane. However, Emerald had an interesting reaction to that. She made a comment that was very revealing. At one point during the week after yet again being addressed as princess, she turned to her mom and dad and said in a matter of fact voice, “they all know I’m a princess here.” Mom and dad burst into laughter when they heard that one.
Edgington wrote, “all of us who believe in Jesus and have trusted him for our salvation truly are royalty. And I’m not talking about the pretend kind. I’m talking about joint heirs with the Son of God who is reigning on his throne.” The world may say we are not beautiful enough, not important enough, not talented enough, not worthy of any particular notice or any special treatment, with the result that we expend ourselves in the futile effort to convince others that we are, in fact, special.
I think this should impact us in two ways. First, we need to live in the truth of who we are, children of the king. We need to remember that no amount of the acclaim and approval of this world will ever measure up to that, thus will inevitably leave us feeling somehow disappointed when we seek it. We need to rest in the truth that in God’s eyes we are special, his beloved, royal children, and we need to look forward to that day when we actually experience the glory of that.
Second, we need to let Emerald’s comment impact how we treat others. In his book, The Weight of Glory, C. S. Lewis made the comment that there are no ordinary people. He said, “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest, most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one of those destinations.” How would we relate to people if we thought that every single one of them was a true prince or princess? Wouldn’t it be great if every person that we deal with came away thinking, “that person knows I’m special”?