I’m a Tomboy at heart. The bottoms of my feet are stained with what my husband affectionately calls “perma-dirt.” I grew up playing cops and robbers with my neighbors and running around with my shirt off because, well, my brothers were able to enjoy the coolness of one less article of clothing so why couldn’t I? As an eight year old, my dad found me in the bathroom standing over the toilet to...uh, use it like a boy. My summers were spent rappelling off cliffs, exploring snake-infested creeks, and frog-gigging at night. In college, I thought Kate Spade was a really popular girl on campus because all the friends I met seemed to think she was really cool.
I’m just naturally more comfortable being rough around the edges than refined and polished because I grew up with rambunctious brothers. My neighbors were boys, I babysat boys, and many of my closest friends were boys. In most girly-girl areas, I’m rather clueless. So when we learned we were expecting our first daughter, fear just shot through my body. I was over-the-moon-giddy about being a mother, but downright terrified about raising a girl. And as is true with most things that frighten us, I tried to control the situation and ensure that we indeed raised a precious little Tomboy instead of a miniature damsel in distress.
I launched an all-out assault on the word “princess.” No one could use that tainted word when speaking about our sweet baby. In fact, that title was fearfully outlawed for all clothing, room décor, and toys.
“We will NOT have a princess,” I thought. “I will not stand by while the world tries to mold our daughter into some tutu-wearing, Disney-loving diva who prefers tea parties to tee-ball!”
Well, this week, as I sat in a pink-infested bedroom, watching our beautiful first-born twirl in her sparkly purple princess dress, asking me in the same breath if we could paint our toe nails and marry her Jessie and Woody dolls again; I couldn’t help but chuckle. God so knew I needed a princess. He wanted that for me so that I could whole-heartedly understand what it’s like to loved by The King.
Because God created my inmost being and knit me together in my mother’s womb, He knew I would long to be lavished with an unfailing love (Psalm 139:13). It’s an innate craving in each of us-to experience the safety and comfort of truly unconditional love. It’s such a powerful desire of our hearts that we search desperately to satisfy that need. We turn to relationships to fill us up. We seek careers that boost our ego and financial status. We indulge in decadent desserts to soothe our souls. We over-commit to responsibilities to fill the voids we create by running from our true identity. We are so driven by this desire to attain perfect love that we cover ourselves in every other possible label except the ones our Heavenly Father provided us before creation.
We call ourselves Soccer Moms. Conservatives. Liberals. Go-getters. Extreme Couponers. Free-thinkers. Church-goers. Atheists. But the truth is, these self-adhesive labels reveal our attachment to doing and they provide us a self-sheltering category to which we can belong. When we wrap ourselves up in these labels, our value is attached to our accomplishments and our identity becomes joined with our performance. The more we make efforts to attain love and worth, the more we bury ourselves in a works-based pursuit of God’s affection, distancing ourselves from the earth-shattering purity and freedom of His unconditional love.
I wanted so desperately to outrun the label of “Princess” for my daughters because in my safe place of comfort, as a rough-around-the-edges-kinda-girl, I did not have to admit that I never saw myself as deserving of a royal love. I did not have to confess that what made me most insecure about the thought of being noble was the inevitable exposures of my disastrous imperfections. I’d convinced myself that true love required perfection, and since I was lightyears from planet perfect, I could satisfy myself with conditional love because it was familiar. But oh how backwards this mentality is!
God’s power is made perfect in our weakness, so our frailties are not intended to provide places of comfort and complacency; they are present so we can recognize that our completeness and our wholeness rest solely in His hands (2 Corinthians 12:9).
We can brand ourselves however we want, but until we surrender to the names we are given by our Heavenly Father, we will be running from the joyful abundance He wants us to experience.
You are Chosen. You are a child of God. You are a friend of Jesus. You are justified. Forgiven. Redeemed. Free. Accepted. Blameless. Holy. Royal. Take a moment and let those labels soak into your heart. Let them resonate in your soul. That’s who you are.
Friends, our Father doesn’t want us to wrestle with labels or identities. He wants us to stop running from Him, to be embraced by the pursuit of His revolutionary love. He’s given us such powerful names because He created us to be so taken with His unconditional love that we can’t help but share it with others. And since each of us is created in His own image, when we cover His descriptions with our selfhood, we can’t reflect His character because we’re concealing it with our own. But if we can allow ourselves to be completely filled with His all-consuming love, then we become evidence of Him by pouring out His love to others. It’s no longer about us and our imperfections, but about His will, His plan, His glory.
I’m still adjusting to my acceptance of being a “Princess,” and God certainly understands that. He gives me many moments throughout the week to affirm that I’m His daughter by having our inquisitive three year old ask, “Mommy, are you a princess, too?” And as I cup her precious little cheeks in my hands and look her in the eyes, God gives me complete confidence even in my discomfort to say, “Yes, sweet girl. I am a princess. My Prince came to rescue me long ago- and His name is Jesus.”
Is there a label that you're clinging to for stability and affection? Is there a source from which you continually seek satisfaction only to be perpetually left unfulfilled? Are you striving for perfection or demanding it from others because that’s all you know to do? That empty feeling of defeat that’s chasing you is not from God. He is stability. He’s the source of affection. He provides our contentment and never demands our perfection. Let Him love you. Let Hill fill you up. Let Him lavish you with acceptance and justification. Let Him be your source.
Can I pray with you?
Lord, only you know what we need. Only you know the deepest desires of our heart because you’ve placed them there. You promise to provide us peace that surpasses all understanding when we bring our worries and imperfections to you. Let us feel that peace, Lord. In this very moment, let us feel your Love. Let us feel your acceptance and your full redemption of our hearts. Let us feel your power that’s made perfect in our weakness. Lord, love on us. We want to reflect you, Lord, in all that we do. Cover us in You, Lord,and mark us for your purpose. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
