Wednesday, August 25, 2010


"I'm hoping I wake up tomorrow and I'm a princess."

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized the depths of my . . .


I was hoping to wake up a princess and my son, my beautiful son, that was sitting across the room, can't walk.

Add another word to my "S" list . . . shame.

Jim didn't hear what I said. He asked me to repeat myself. I shook my head "no" and nodded towards Ethan.

I was so thankful that Ethan didn't hear me. So thankful that he didn't hear the words that came from his momma's shallow and selfish heart.


Learning to be a servant, and a care-giver, has not come easy to me.

I've fought it tooth and nail.

I've always liked to do things for other people, but it was always the things I wanted to do for them, and when I wanted to do them.

That's not the way of a servant.

That's the way of a princess.

I'm having a hard time laying down the crown for a cross.

Don't get me wrong.

Ethan is not a cross.

He's a joy. His life is a gift. It's wrapped with God's love and tied up with His power.

What seems to be my cross is having to do things I don't want to do, when I don't want to do them, and not being able to do the things I want to do when I want to do them.

At least I thought that was my cross.

The night I made the remark about wanting to be a princess, and I came face to face with my stupidity, my selfishness, my insensitivity and my shame, I asked God to forgive me.

I also asked him another question. "Why is it so hard? Why is it so hard for me to serve Ethan, when I love him so much. When I am so thankful that You gave him back to us? I'm not lazy. I don't mind working. What is wrong with me?"

God, in His most tender way, answered me. He let me see that it wasn't the serving I resented. It wasn't the giving and the doing I was fighting.

I wasn't resisting the doing what I needed to do when I needed to do it and the not being able to do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it.

That wasn't the cross I was running away from.

The cross I was running away from was the pain.

God reminded me that there is always pain with a cross.

Although I know mine doesn't even compare to the pain others have experienced and do experience on a daily basis, I've had enough. I have a tendency to run away from more hurt and anything that reminds me of what I've lost.

Doing things for Ethan is a constant reminder that he can't do them for himself. It is a constant reminder of what he has lost and that his loss is so much greater than mine.

When he asks me to do something, I know he would rather be doing it himself. He longs for his independence. I see the pain in his face. I hear the pain in his voice.
It is overwhelming. My heart breaks one more time.

So, I run. Or at least I try to run.

I want to run away from my disappointments, but mostly I want to run away from his. I want to run away from the dreams I've lost, but more than that, I want to deny what he has lost.

His requests, his needs, the serving, it all brings me back to the pain.

I didn't want to be a princess just to wear the pretty dresses, or to wear a sparkling crown, or to wave a magic wand. I wanted to wake up and be a princess because... princesses don't hurt. And neither do their children.

Jesus said that I must pick up my cross to follow Him. Matthew 10:38

I'd rather pick up a crown.

Crowns don't hurt.

But, there was one crown that did.

"When they had twisted a crown of thorns, they put it on His head, and a reed in His right hand. And they bowed the knee before Him and mocked Him, saying, "Hail, King of the Jews!"
Matthew 27:29

It's because of The One that willingly wore the crown of thorns, a crown that caused blood to pour from His brow, that I can serve through my pain. That I don't have to run from it.

Because The One wore that crown, the losses, mine and Ethan's, can be redeemed. The crown Jesus wore and the cross He carried, makes the unacceptable acceptable. It makes the impossible possible.

I believe it will even help turn a wanna-be-princess into His servant.


225. The One that wore the crown of thorns
226. that He wore them for me and the ones I love
227. that Jesus carried His cross
228. and that He gives me the strength to carry mine
229. that stupidity, selfishness, insensitivity and shame are covered by His Grace
230. tender correction
231. for my hands that can do when Ethan's can't
232. for legs and feet that can go for Ethan
233. that Ethan is here to be served
234. Ethan asking for something to drink when for so long he couldn't swallow
235. Ethan asking from something to eat when for so long he couldn't eat
236. for the hundreds of times I've handed him the remote (even when I don't like his choices)
237. the time I am forced to spend with Ethan (what I would have missed if I had been able to choose how I would spend my time!)
238. Ethan being able to speak, and to tell me what hurts and what needs scratching
239. four Galloways in church, instead of three
240. playing Wii on a rainy Sunday afternoon
241. another opportunity to remind the boys to watch their language while they were playing Wii!
242. trusting that He will do it when I can't
243. the crowns He has for me
244. and the fact I can't even imagine wanting one because I will see Him face to face
245. wanna-be-princesses turned into real servants


  1. I think you are a PRINCESS since you FATHER is KING. Loved the blog. Thanks.

  2. I love the first comment and, Cheri, I think you have such a gift for speaking the Word. What a wonderful example you set by explaining that you asked God for greater understanding and He gave it to you so beautifully and clearly. I am reminded that I need to ask Him for instruction more often.

    My gratitude list includes you.