Who Wears the Crown?

If someone asked who rules your life, you would probably know how you would want to answer.

I would too, but I think it is worth spending a little time with that question before genuinely answering it.

So much of our life takes place before anyone hears a word from us, in the thoughts we entertain and the reasons we give ourselves for what we are about to do.

The people closest to us eventually live with the decisions we make there.

Now I want you to close your eyes for a moment, and imagine a conversation that has left you feeling misunderstood, one you are still turning over as you walk to your car….

By the time you reach the end of the driveway, a king has settled into the passenger seat beside you, ready to talk about what happened.

He remembers the words that bothered you and the way the person looked when they said them, and as you turn onto the road, he begins explaining why you have every reason to be upset.

There is just something about how thoroughly this king understands your side of things.

You can leave a sentence unfinished and he will supply the rest, usually with a little more feeling than you intended, though it sounds reasonable enough once he says it.

He knows how tired you were before the conversation even started.

He remembers what you have already put up with, and he seems almost offended on your behalf that anyone would expect you to bear much more.

You loosen your grip on the steering wheel as he talks.

Being understood feels good, especially when you have spent the last hour wondering whether you handled something badly.

This particular king has been accompanying you for years, making himself useful in moments like this.

Whenever a memory begins to trouble you, he leans forward to explain the circumstances, taking particular care with the parts that make your response understandable.

Under his telling, the words you wish you could take back begin to sound necessary.

Someone needed to hear them, he suggests, and considering everything that led up to it, you were probably more restrained than most people would have been.

By the time you pull into the next parking lot, you have accepted most of his account.

He is pleasant company while you agree with him, and because he so often wants what you want, you can go a long time without noticing how accustomed you have become to obeying him.

His preferences work their way into the smallest decisions until consulting him feels as natural as reaching for your keys.

He likes being comfortable, appreciates being noticed, and takes an unusually personal interest in whether you have received the treatment you deserve.

Occasionally, you try to question him.

Perhaps the person who spoke to you had a point, you begin, and you watch his face change before you have finished.

He brings up something they did months ago, something you had almost forgotten, and takes you through it carefully until you feel foolish for having considered their complaint.

There is a great deal of relief in being given permission to remain as we are.

A sympathetic explanation can feel so much like help that we welcome it without considering where it is taking us.

After a while, the people closest to you learn to make allowances for this kingly companion of yours.

They hesitate over ordinary requests because they have seen how a small disappointment can occupy your whole evening.

A conversation becomes difficult to finish when every concern must first survive your explanation of why you behaved that way.

You may even begin to feel lonely, wondering why people seem less willing to be honest with you, while he sits beside you offering his opinion of their distance.

By then, the rule of this king has become so familiar that when you begin to consider doing something he dislikes, you already know the argument he will make, and sometimes you abandon the thought before he has to say a word.

When you speak to that person again, the account you accepted in the car comes with you, and you may already have decided what you will say if the subject comes up.

But, as they begin to speak, you become aware of another King, whose presence and authority reach into the answer you had prepared.

You find yourself hesitating over words you felt justified in saying when you were alone.

He has been listening with you, and He knows the small satisfaction you would get from choosing the words that will hurt.

He draws your attention to the person in front of you, including the hurt on their face that you had been too occupied with your own defense to consider.

He stays with you through the discomfort of letting them finish.

Somewhere in what they are saying is a truth about you that you would ordinarily argue with, and you can feel how much you want Him to excuse you from hearing it.

He knows why it is difficult.

He has been with you through the things that made you guarded, and his mercy gives you courage to bring him the whole of what happened, including the part you are ashamed to say aloud.

An explanation starts forming almost out of habit, and in his presence you begin to hear how hard you are working to make your own behavior sound reasonable.

When he asks you to take responsibility for what you said, you would like some assurance about how this will go before you agree to begin.

The person you hurt might have more to say, and He stays beside you as you give up trying to arrange their response.

Under His direction, you begin to say what you did, and when the urge comes to attach their faults to the end of your apology, you ask Him to help you leave that part unsaid.

The words feel awkward in your mouth.

You may have to stop and begin again because an excuse has slipped into them, and He is patient enough to keep helping you through something you wish you were already better at.

Afterward, you find that He is willing to sit with you through the waiting.

The other person has their own hurt to work through, and you keep wanting to check whether everything is settled yet.

He helps you bear the uncertainty of having done what was right while the conversation still feels unfinished.

As you trust Him with what happens next, you begin to loosen your demand that everyone feel better before the evening is over.

Over time, under this king’s rule, the people around you begin to have more room to speak.

You are learning to stay in a difficult conversation without requiring the other person to take care of your pride, and when you fail, there is someone you trust enough to turn to for correction.

His patience has begun to affect the way you live with people who also need time to grow.

You still feel the pull of having your own way, sometimes with an intensity that surprises you, and increasingly you find yourself asking for his help before you answer.

The strength you draw from Him becomes especially precious in these moments, when you can feel your own resistance and still need help to do what He has asked.

By now, a particular person may have come to mind, and you may be remembering something between you that remains unresolved.

Keep that person in mind as you consider these kings, because it is easy to agree with what we have read while leaving our own response exactly as it was.

The familiar king is the king of flesh, who has become so skilled at explaining why we should have our way.

His rule can feel perfectly natural to us, especially after years of giving it the final say.

We can even carry his habits into our prayers, asking for help while holding firmly to the decision we have already made.

The King who remained with you while you struggled to obey is the King & Lord Jesus Christ, the King of life.

He knows exactly what He is taking on when we yield ourselves to Him, and He brings His grace into the place where our decisions are made, teaching us to trust Him with the desires we have allowed to govern us.

His claim reaches into the next conversation, where we will have to decide what to do with something He has already shown us.

I can see how easily I could finish writing this and feel satisfied that I have said something true, while carrying an old argument into the rest of my day.

The person on the other side of it would still have to live with the way I answer them.

I would have to decide whether I will yield to Him when He asks me to lay down an excuse I still want to keep.

Before you answer, think about the person whose face came to mind as you read.

Consider what the Lord has already shown you about your part in what happened, and what you intend to do with it when you put this down.

With that person in mind, and your own reasons still pressing to be heard, who wears the crown in your life: the king of the flesh, or the King of life?

Biblical Womanhood

Subscribe

If you’ve ever known what you believe but struggled to explain why, Adam and I wrote “Have an Answer” for you.

This Bible study guide helps you work through honest questions about the Christian faith with Scripture, whether you’re studying on your own or talking things through with your family.

Get your copy of Have an Answer here.

Have An Answer