Inner Princess

Reflections on Luke 12:12-21, 2 Corinthians 9:6 & Robert Frost’s Mending Wall

Someone in the crowd said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.’

My youngest niece is a real pip.  When she was five-years-old the whole world revolved around her and she was not shy about it.  Once, at a family gathering, I reminded her that I was not only her aunt, but also her godmother, which she interpreted to mean fairy godmother and immediately sought to make a wish: “I would like to be a princess.”  Not wanting to disappoint her, I replied, “It is done.”  And so we spent most of our week together poolside, where my niece ruled her kingdom … the shallow end.  She was not yet confident in the water, and so she proclaimed the shallow end her area, her kingdom.  As princess and sovereign she granted, and occasionally denied, the rest of the family access to her kingdom, stretching out her arms in a wide sweep to define its borders.  That sort of behavior in a five-year-old is oddly endearing for a day or two, but as the week stretched on, I saw how it wore on her mom and her older sister and the rest of us … her royal subjects. 

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall …

Photo from BBPC Appalachia Service Project Trip 2011

or a border or a boundary when it seeks to keep us out.  And yet it is in our broken and very human nature to build walls, to claim borders and to set boundaries to separate what is mine from what is yours.  

Then Jesus told them a parable:  ‘The land of a rich man produced abundantly.  And he thought to himself, “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?”  Then he said, “I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods.  And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”

We all have a little five year-old princess or prince inside who longs to build walls, to claim borders, to set boundaries around what belongs to us.  There is a little something in each of us that longs to stretch our arms in every direction and say, “This is mine!  My time.  My vacation.  My space.  My talent.  My opportunity.  My energy.  My relationship. My money.  Mine.”  That little inner princess or prince is self-centered and stingy, wanting to close fists around what she thinks belongs to her, what she thinks she in entitled to.  Sometimes, even adults let their inner princess get the better of them, drawing boundaries and building walls like the rich man in Jesus’ story.  He thought bigger barns meant a better retirement, but who can relax, who can eat, drink, and be merry with their fists clenched?

But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”

Of course you can’t take it with you.  It doesn’t matter how tight you hold on, how big your barns or how high your walls.  All the worry and the security put in place to guard what has been gathered means nothing in the face of death. 

So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God.

It is what you give away that you get to keep.  You reap what you sow.  If you give nothing, you get nothing.  If you build walls, claim borders or set boundaries, nothing gets out, but also nothing comes in.  If instead we are generous towards others, generous towards God, generous with our time and our energy, our resources, our talents, then in ways we cannot even begin to imagine, we reap what we sow.  Rarely do we reap tangibles, nothing that can be stored in barns or behind walls, but a reaping of great value nevertheless, sometimes even eternal in nature.

The one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.

The best moments poolside with my family, were the moments when my niece curbed her inner princess and welcomed us in to share fun and laughter in the shallow end, when her kingdom became our playground.  We splashed and played and giggled together, all of us.  Those memories and the relationships built upon them cannot be stored or kept secure behind a fence, but they we will last and even grow ... of that I am sure.