A pilot family came over for a visit the other day. A pilot who flies in Papua. In fact, he flies into the small villages of my youth. He said off hand to my daughter, "your mom is a rock star there!" My whole family is royalty among the Nduga's of Papua. I was born a princess. Every move I made, every excursion out of the home I was surrounded with an entourage of curious and admiring people. When we returned not too many years ago, there was a pig feast, choir and painted faces. Granted, I was with the King ( my Dad) and the Queen ( Elfrieda) but I was loved intensely and without hesitation. All honor given but nothing earned.
If one lives in that environment too long, one becomes accustomed to respect not earned and honor not deserved. There is a subtle but persistent lie that begins to permeate...All those who are born of royalty assume the same...I must be better than, if everyone loves and honors me so. It is hard to be a servant when one is born royal!
There is something quite wonderful about an experience like that...I never want to be comfortable with it though.
I think when those who follow Jesus become too comfortable in being special, famous, popular...they need to do what Jesus did....wash some feet...not in the public eye and maybe not literally but serve as if your sanity depended on it...because maybe it does.
1 comment:
Sounds like you have your feet on the ground and your head on straight, even if you have had royal treatment. Blessings! ~ lew
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