She waited ever so patiently for her promised husband…ok that might be a lie. She wasn’t patient. She had been downright angry. She was told 3 years…and was already over the line working on the 5th year. What had happened? Had she done something wrong? Did she drop it in her broken heartedness and truly fail to pick it back up? Over 3 years worth of dreams she had of a particular person and so she waited…but not well. She made some serious mistakes along the way, but Poppa knew she would make them and had already accounted for her blunders. Those blunders were the catalyst to new gifts and hearing Him more clearly.
By the end of the third year, the dreams stopped. She was asking…but she was getting crickets. A song would play called Moving On and she would wonder if this was a sign of what she needed to do. She had two dreams of him after the 3 years had ended…both were of him angry…with her. She was confused, delayed and frustrated. She hung on loosely for the last 2 years still nursing the stings of rejection, reminding herself that no response is still a response.
Carefully parsing through her dreams, she was constantly on the lookout for the counterfeit, waiting for this fake man of God to rear his head so she could shut him down and get past what she was sure would be a temptation of monumental proportions. He just needed some time to mature a little more she would often tell herself to soften her frustration, reminding herself that love is patient, and kind…even when you’re pissed. She had noticed that littered through her dreams were dreams that didn’t fit most of the patterns and information she had seen in other dreams, and in those precious few (which was more than what she realized) was the hope of her future husband she didn’t know she needed.
You see, what she hadn’t realized was in her patiently impatient waiting, she had been rejected. She hadn’t realized that the dreams ended abruptly at the end of the 3 years and she was holding onto shreds of hope for this man to come around…who had already decided she wasn’t worth his time.
He had no idea what he lost. She knew inside she was special and he let himself be fooled by commonplace appearances- the same offense made by the Beast when he was offered an enchanted rose. She had been hidden her whole life that only people who chose to interact with her could see what she was really worth, and he had completely missed out.
She sat in her safe place, writing and praising and talking with friends, constant joy her companion until he pulled up to do some business and saw it was her, looking down on her like a peasant begging for coins…and promptly driving away.
A few unladylike words crossed her lips at the audacity. His immaturity was astounding, and she had decided she no longer could wait on a man as disrespectful as he.
Another king had crossed her path but fear of the counterfeit gave her pause. Fear of making a mistake again gripped her as she internally danced around developing emotions, trying not to reveal too much. She was worried she would somehow mess up what Poppa had for her, forgetting that He held her so securely.
The king reached out to her again, conversations were becoming more frequent and she hadn’t been sure what to do. How would she know if he was the counterfeit? Deciding to keep it friendly she continued talking to him, his attentions for her growing quickly and more frequent. She struggled with what to do, for his heart was growing on her rapidly.
Over chat, she attempted to slow communication, she couldn’t afford anymore distractions with her work, but irretrievable words were spoken that sent a spark of lightening through her body…words aimed at his excitement over her Fathers heart. In that moment, the engine was fully lit. If there had been a question in her mind before that moment, it was now gone, burned up in the fires of her heart. How could she confront what just happened? Fear was tugging at her, how would she face the hurt tied to love, hurt she thought she was healed from??
In a moment of need, a need to offload her coal and slow down the blaze, words came out. Unintelligible words with mixed emotion that were unable to get to the point but only beat around the bush; words that would drive any man just seeking a warm body away…and he grew painfully quiet.
She couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts ran through her mind, but mostly ponderings of how to undo what she felt he had done.
What had she done.
Her friends encouraged her, but nothing was helping, she ruined it before it even had a chance to start! Gazing at his picture wasn’t helping either. So she prayed for this king and went to sleep. She slept lightly through the wee morning hours only to wake in the morning and see that there was no response. She killed it. Time to dust off, he obviously wasn’t ready for m…wait…he’s typing! Ok, ok, be still my beating heart!
As the conversation continued, he reassured her that he hadn’t run off. Kings never run, they pursue. They went back and forth enjoying each other’s company when he typed out words that were all too familiar, words that were spoken once upon a dream. As she pulled up her dream and shared bits of it with him he asked her who the man was, and who the princess was, of which she had no idea, the dream was so whimsical she never gave it personal application. The conversation paused. “Can I call you” were his next words as her heart began hammering in her chest. She knew what was coming…did she dare say yes?
Oh, she dared all right.
He poured out his heart about as articulately she did the night before. All day they were on and off the phone laughing, sharing, baring. Nothing was off limits, and yet the king manned his respectful boundaries of her heart.
The day moved on each moment progressing swiftly to its close. How can a king have zero red flags? And the things that could have been so very red were so thoroughly washed white by the blood of Jesus that they were beautiful ornaments on the ramparts of his heart.
And she asked herself, “How did I get here?”
She was trying so hard not to completely snowball, she still wanted confirmation.
There was the 18, the 19, the 38 and the 69, there was the line from once upon a dream, things spoken to him that I was not privy to, but the icing on cake was the one I was after. Lord, let my best friend (who didn’t all know all the things that had happened all the days before) confirm your heart in the matter, please do it quickly before I start to shatter. It took 2 whole days to be brought about but the words that she saw and the words that she felt were all of the words of confirmation I sought:
Girl I just got the sense that your prince is handing you your missing glass slipper.
…We talked about that yesterday.
When I was a kid, I prayed for glass slippers. I also asked Poppa to confirm it through you, because I’ve always known your heart to be true.
And so, there is no longer a doubt in my mind, that the king I was promised…
Is in hot pursuit of my heart with Fathers blessing.