my newest book, I've been thinking and talking a lot about Prince Charming. Today, I'd like to brag a little on my own Prince Charming. He is a gentleman in every respect. He is kind and sweet and completely spoils me rotten. He opens doors for me and carries my bags (even my purse from time to time). He pulls out chairs and even cuts my meat for me (although I'm not sure if this is his attempt at sweetness or self-protection; knives aren't my thing!) Several nights each week, he pampers me with neck, shoulder and/or foot rubs. Yes, my Prince Charming is just that--mine. Oh, and charming, of course.
But as good as he is to me, he still can't compare to my Lord. Never has there been one so gentle or precious. He, too, opens doors for me. Doors of possibilities. Doors of excitement. Doors of change. Doors of growth. He, too, carries all of my heavy loads, that is, when I'll let Him (more on that in a moment). He has even been known to pull out a chair and invite me to a quiet time of intimacy with Him. Just my Lord and me, which is how He likes it. He may not cut my meat for me, but He does cut my problems and worries. He pampers me with love, life and happiness. Ah, yes, my Lord is certainly the most charming in all the land (and beyond).
Here's what gets me. When Jason dotes on me, I love it. I am, in no way, offended when he offers to carry my stuff. On the contrary, I enjoy the freedom and lack of burdens. I am honored when he pulls out my chair and extends his hand in greeting for me to join him. Whatever else I may have had planned no longer seems important--only spending time with my love. I am not embarrassed when he cuts up my meat, orders my food or completes any other niceties for me. I feel blessed, cherished and well taken care of. And unlike some ladies who feel that waiting on their husband to open the door for them is a waste of time, I don't mind one bit. I think it is a beautiful show of love and compassion, and I wouldn't deny him that, so I gladly wait.
That being said, I tend to react differently to God's show of "gentleman" qualities. When He offers to carry my burdens, at first, I'm relieved. But before long, I find myself inwardly accusing Him of not carrying things the proper way, and I take them back. When He pulls out a chair and invites me to share some quiet time with Him, I find myself making excuses. I'm running late for an appointment. I have too much to do. Maybe later. Can't You see I'm busy serving You, so I don't have time to just sit and be with You? And as for waiting on Him to open doors, good grief, I become the most impatient person I've ever known. "What's taking you so long, Lord? If you don't hurry and open up this door, I'll just have to do it myself."
Is that crazy or what? I lovingly accept my husband's charming behavior toward me, but when God does the same thing and much more, I resist His attempts to shower me with love. It makes absolutely no sense. Even now, I'm trying to figure out what causes me to act in such a way, and I'm coming up blank. I have no answers, but maybe you do. Perhaps, from the vantage point of one viewing the situation from "outside the box," you see the answer that is so elusive to me. If so, please leave a comment and let me know what you think. Or, maybe, you're in the same boat I'm in. In that case, you can also leave a comment. Maybe a fresh perspective or two will help us figure this thing out.