What is my life but a speck in a Rubens, a drop in the Pacific, a particle in the Superdome? Yet I step up onto my pedestal (or my soapbox) and crown myself queen of the world-- this world, and not the next-- expecting subordinates to bow to me: circumstances, peers, even churches.
If only perspective were so visual that I could daily see the hilarity in my monarchy: the ragged filth I flaunt as robes, the fetching stick I wave as a wand, the rubbish pile I step into as a stage--
All before the glory, perfection, and brightness of a Holy Throne Room, of a rightful Lord in the presence of pure and deserved praise--
I would cry with the prophet, "Woe is me, for I am undone!" and surrender my accusations, orders, and expectations for unadulterated devotion. |
Malia's Blog
