I Am the Daughter of a King.

I will never forget it.  It was the darkest of nights. My busted heart crowded with sorrow in such a way I thought it would rupture.  The circumstances of life were dire.  I was petrified.  I was perplexed.  I was alone.  When the grief seemed as if it would suffocate me, my knees fell to the ground.  There I knelt, weeping.  I remember being confused how I even arrived to my knees.  It was a pose I had not assumed in such a long stretch of time.  It was as though my distressing heart had fiercely implored my brain to force my knees to bend.  It knew that upon them, it would find alleviation.  I had felt the pleadings of my suffering heart many times up to this experience.  It begged for release, and worked vigorously to diminish my unyielding stubbornness.  I had memorized the way it labored to bring me to Him, but I continuously fled.  I was terrified, and convinced, that He, too, held only broken love for me.  How could I manage such a fate?  In my mind I determined to escape another rejection, desperately seeking to evade an additional desertion.  How would one exist after the forsaking of their Creator?  My perspective was irreversibly damaged.  My heart seemed to recognize the impending finalization of the moment, and in a last attempt, pushed me to my knees, hoping that the truth which was buried deep inside it, would be realized upon them.  Almost immediately, as though I had never missed a moment, my eyes turned upward, my mouth opened, and every word that escaped was designed for Him. 

He was there.  And not in an approaching way, but in a sustained, never having departed way.  It happened rapidly.  Moments of my existence seemed to blaze before me.  As each memory passed through my recollection, I had the ability to distinctly discern His presence every minute of my life.  It was never from afar, but so near, that in some instances I could perceive that His hand was the only thing that kept my tortured frame from fracturing.  It was His hand that kept the beat continuing within my ravaged heart.  It was His hand that held me up when my inadequacies sought to destroy.  It was His hand that shielded me from physical and spiritual distinction.  It was His hands, through every second of my life, which held mine.  He stayed by my side, although I was unworthy.  He chased after me when I ran.  He remained with me as I hid.  He persisted, though my actions hallowed Him, and broke His heart.  He abided through every starless, hopeless night.  He heard every sob, every cry for help, and answered it.  Even though my eyes were blinded to His replies, my ears blocked to His whispers, He never ceased in responding.   It was the most overwhelming occurrence of my life. 

My heart unbolted.  Everything inside came tumbling outward.  Every expression that I had withheld due to preconceived fabrications, came flooding through.  Every despair was released, each adversity addressed.  The environment surrounding me was originally one of chaos.  I was lost in the trouble and disarray that confined me.  The main source of all the confusion became clear, I simply had no understanding of who I was.  I didn’t seem to be suited in my earthly surroundings.  I felt out of place.  I remember sobbing, asking: Who am I?  Where did I come from?  To whom do I belong?  Thinking only of the temporal, I was unprepared for His reply.  I remember how  suddenly my mind seemed to break free.  A quiet, unflustered calm bound my heart.  As intelligibly as any voice I had ever perceived, it came: Be untroubled, for I am your Father. 

It was the moment I learned who I was.  From where I came.  To whom I belong.  I was His.  I am His.  He is my Father.  I am His daughter.  Before coming to earth, He delighted in my presence, and I cherished every moment by His side.  When I left, my soul was exultant at the chance to prove my worthiness, but I missed Him even before I departed.  Realizing my identity, in Him, by Him, through Him, has changed every portion of my being.  He stands as the emphasis and nucleus of all I do.  All I strive for, all I labor towards, all I hope for, rests in Him.  The indefinable love I held for Him premortally, marked my heart; I carry it everywhere I go.  This love is magnified as I work to know Him more deeply.  As I continue to learn of my identification as His daughter, and all that it encompasses,  I am strengthened.  I am brought closer to Him.  The nearer I come, the more I crave to be by His side.  It alters the decisions I make, the aspirations I have, the actions I deliver. 

We are sent here to earthly parents.  We are blessed to have them.  But our definition as His daughter, or His son, will never diminish or revise because of these bonds.  Above all else, we are His.  We should never forget this in our identification, and should make it an imperative part of the way we view our own children, for they don’t belong to us.  They never have, they never will.  Although we can be eternally joined, when we return home we will still be His children first.  These souls are our spiritual siblings, loaned to us by a gentle, kind, loving Father, who seeks to have us learn how to pattern our love after His.  Being parents allows us glimpses of His love.  But here, in this mortal sphere, we will never even come close to acquiring the depth of His affections.  We must seek to teach our children who they are.  From whence they came.  To whom they belong.  There is no greater gift we can offer them, then to teach them of their origins, their potentials, their divinities.  They are His.  They are adored by Him.  They are missed by Him.  They are loved by Him. 

A few years ago I came across a saying that seemed to spell out every expression that existed in my heart.   It read:

I am the daughter of a King, who is not moved by the world, for my God is with me, and goes before me.  I do not fear because I AM HIS. 

It is plastered onto the walls of both of my baby girls bedrooms.  I read it almost ten times a day, sometimes more.  Every. Single. Time. Tears form.  How grateful I am for my knowledge of the truth.  I wish I had known it every second of my existence.  But my pathway to this understanding was extended.  For them, I want it to be a lifelong comprehension.  Something that is embedded into who and what they are.  When they see themselves I ache for them to recall how wonderfully and fearfully made they are, and to where they are bound.  I want them to remember their Father, and to make Him apart of every inch of their lives.  Because He is right there with them, just as He has always been with me. 

On this day, the one in which we celebrate our Patriarchs, my heart is overwhelmed with love for Him, my Father.  He is the focal point of my heart, the destination of my endeavors.  I can hardly wait to be home with Him again.  Until then, I will never forget:  I am the Daughter of a King.