Royalty Realm – His Scepter Extended

Timid’s turn to step across the threshold into the King’s presence was fast approaching. Up till now, the long queues of inhabitants in the Royalty Realm had made it easy for her to demur and “graciously” grant cuts in line, thus assuring she would never quite reach the entryway.

Her summons had come much earlier. However, the King’s reputation for patience fit neatly with her temperament. Her middle name could easily have been Stubborn though, for it required some well-planted heels on the Kingdom’s highly polished floors to maintain her distance from the Throne.

While she waited contemplating if Plan A could work much longer, a royal ruckus was being raised somewhere in the line behind her. Much too short to see over the top of the others’ heads, she cautiously stepped sideways to peer down the row. Such a commotion! It appeared someone was trying to wrestle free from the hands of others in their attempt to hold them back.

Before Timid quite knew what had hit her, a figure ran past her toward the front of the line. In their haste, they stumbled over her feet, flipping her on her backside. Quite un-graciously, she flew like a hockey puck across the gleaming marble floor, landing in an unceremonious heap squarely in front of the King’s view.

Courageous stopped mid-dash and stared down at Timid with a quizzical look on his face. Where did she come from? He turned to hasten his way to the Throne when a rich, firm Voice spoke.

“Courageous. Will you please assist Timid to her feet? She seems to have lost her long-held place in line.” Timid knew the Royalty Realm’s protocol well enough to not roll her eyes in the presence of the King. Inwardly though, she had to admit that nothing ever seemed to get past the King. Including Plan A.

He extended his hand and lifted her to her feet. Sure that she was steady, he quickly headed toward the Throne. One more time his approach was interrupted by the Voice.

“I love the boldness with which you approach My Throne, Courageous, anticipating my grace. Would you mind, though, allowing Timid to approach next?”

Courageous bowed, took Timid by the hand once again, and drew her ahead. Cheeks hot with embarrassment, she awkwardly patted the side of her robe. Hoping she hadn’t lost it in her sprawling spin across the floor, she sighed with relief as she gripped it and withdrew the gift she had brought for the King. She shyly took a step forward.

“I-I-I give you myself,” Timid stammered, as she held out what looked like a ruler. It was crudely notched, about a foot long at the broken off edge. She looked down at the floor, unable to hold the King’s unwavering gaze. A long moment passed, then without a word, the King extended His scepter.

As its Royal tip touched the ragged edge of Timid’s measuring stick, flames of fire from the King’s grip ran along its length and consumed the sad-looking wooden twig, notch by notch. Grace and mercy began to wash over Timid in waves. Unable to do anything but abandon herself to it, she began to understand why ones like Courageous were so bold in their pursuit to approach the King’s Throne. It brought such freedom!

Her self-measurement had never done anything but bring her up on the short end of the stick. Timid had turned self-comparison into an art form. The hardest thing to admit, though, was the bitter niggling that threatened to take root inside.

As the King’s scepter held steady, Timid was overcome by the Spirit of Truth that compelled her to look into His eyes. There was no retreating from His righteous assessment. No ability to pull her cloak more tightly around her and disappear into its folds. She had been summoned. She had been noticed. Now, she stood before the King watching and experiencing His scepter of love and acceptance swallowing up the tool by which she had defined herself.

The King patiently held Timid in His enveloping gaze until His scepter had accomplished what it had been extended to do. Then the King spoke once again.

“Today, you will know you are endowed with royal power and authority. It has always been yours though you lingered in line instead of appropriating it. Now, no longer will you be called Timid for I know you will eagerly return as often as you have need.”

“Courageous, may I present to you, Confidence. You two will make wonderful companions. I look forward to seeing you regularly, for no good thing will I withhold from them that walk uprightly.” (Psalm 84:11)

“Confidence, whenever you need a reminder that you are no longer Timid, boldly come to Me…though you might want to work on your hockey moves…”

The King grinned at Confidence whose cheeks were flushing again. Startling both her and Courageous, laughter, clear and bubbling rolled up and out from deep within her as the King threw back His head and roared with delight!

Confidence began the daily practice of taking herself less seriously. Courageous shared with her the joy-secret of his strength and courage. And learning to come boldly to the King’s Throne of Grace became a familiar protocol of the Royalty Realm, for she had discovered the place to go for every need she would ever have – no matter her position.

“Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” Hebrews 4:16 KJV

Friend, the King’s scepter is extended toward you, day and night. Whether on your feet or sliding across life’s floor like a hockey puck, be bold in approaching His Throne. The more often you do, the more your true bearing will be infused with Him.

Gracefully Free