How Much More

Begging a moment of indulgence . . . with whom will we fall asleep tonight, in the monastery of our hearts?  Favorite comedian?  Favorite newscaster . . . author . . . musician . . . movie star?

The Lord’s doesn’t have to be the last voice we hear, although that’s a monastic rule worth striving toward, but let’s remember Him, give Him our thanks and praise, speak His Name, and determine at the very least never to fall asleep without bringing our souls before Him and bidding Him goodnight.  In truth, the Lord God keeps our hearts beating and our lungs breathing throughout the night, while we sleep.  Even if we could mindfully monitor those pulses during the day, we certainly cannot when we surrender ourselves to sleep.  Oh, the evidences He has given that there is a God, an Almighty Creator King, whose banner over us is love!

To wake in the morning and fall asleep at night without turning our hearts to Him is tremendously worse than to have spent the day by invitation at the White House, or with Queen Elizabeth, and then just . . . taking off.  Leaving without taking leave, a solemn breach of courtesy, decorum and propriety.  

I love majesty.  I’ll tell you why.  I’m not enamored of royal celebrity, but what we have left of monarchy on earth speaks continually of the Monarchy of heaven.  Those who work at Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle NEVER serve so long that they may bring the last tea tray, turn and walk out.  Never.  When Elizabeth’s father returned home from his Accession ceremony, she and Margaret Rose curtsied to him, for they were taught unfailing respect for their nation, and the monarch is the living representation of the nation and its God-given place on earth. 

Perhaps in America that would have been for them a Dr. Phil moment, a scarring for life.  Not so for these royal sisters.  They loved their Papa dearly.  Even as little girls, they knew what they were doing, who he was, what he had been called to do.  They themselves were Princesses of the Royal Blood.  It was their honor to honor him.  Had he not been worthy of their bow, they would not have been the Royal Highnesses that they were.

 

There are many, many “how much more” reminders here in Cor Unum, and this is one of them: how much more ought we to train our self-absorbed, and in America our “at liberty,” flesh to recognize the Majesty of our bloodline. 

So, before many hours are past, night will fall again.  This obeisance is not the good training that comes to housemaids and valets (thanks you, Julian Fellowes,) this is real life, our life.  This is His majesty.  Because we fall asleep in His Presence, shall we treat Him like a nursemaid?  Oh, the tremendous honor and majesty, comfort and assurance, glory and steadfastness of bowing before a real Monarch!  The Monarch of monarchs!  He is our Papa, and He is King.  Our ministry to Majesty does not identify Him, it defines us!  How great our privilege, that before every knee will bow, we may bring our deep, deep love before Him in all we do, day and night, waking and sleeping, in friendship, yes, and reverence . . . even now.

photo, public domain

contributor, Sunday Truth