Just call me princess.

Today as I was staring out the window of my new house at the construction workers in the next house, I was reminded of two occasions.

On Saturday, the furniture movers helped us shift our furniture (duh) from our old house to our new house. I have to say that there was one particular guy that was super good looking! Haha yeah and had really funky hair. K but that’s not the point. Anyway there were about 7 to 8 movers. They carried boxes into the house endlessly and my dad just stood at the door and told them where to bring them. I stood on the second floor and told them which room to put them in. At the end, they asked my dad to check the lorries to make sure that all the things were taken out so that if we were missing anything, they weren’t the ones to blame. But at the same time my dad had to write a check to pay them. With too many things to do, suddenly he turned to me and said, “Charis, you go check the lorries.” I didn’t want to. After all, all the movers were older than me. They stared at me thinking what a joke this was. But I still checked and everything was fine.

A few days before this, my mum left me at this home to keep an eye on the curtain fixer and to wait for the bed guys and laundry hanger guy to deliver the goods and sign the receipt and give them the check respectively. Suddenly, I found myself with too many things to watch out for. On the first floor, the laundry team was fixing in the thing and the contractor n his men wanting to do the garden lights. On the 2nd, the curtain maker and some guys trying to fix the floor in my brother’s room and the bed guys setting up the bed on the 3rd floor. It was no joke k being the only girl in the house and trying to make sure everything was as my parents wanted. I had to contact my parents or make the decisions on my own then pass it on to them to finish. The interesting part was not being the only girl but being the youngest person in the house and everyone else having to listen 2 MY decisions. It was fun haha.

These two things just reminded me of our relationship with God and us. I’m my daddy’s daughter and no matter what these men said or even if they didn’t like listening to a much younger girl tell them what to do, they had to do what I told them because if not they would get into trouble. The movers actually stared at me like “what the!?!”. But they still had to let me do the checking because my dad was THE boss. Our God’s also the boss. And although I love my daddy, God’s a bigger boss and all. Whatever he says gets done. His will is their command. As a child of God, whatever we say has to be done. And the movers just got tips, I get money as and when I ask for it- the difference between being the child and not. No matter how young the son of the king is, he’s still the prince rite? And even if I ran away from home and did stupid things, I know that my dad would be very hurt, but he would still love me and let me come home. If I need anything I know my dad can provide. How much more God? He’s perfect. Better than my dad in every way. I’m blessed to have an earthly daddy who loves me and knows God love and has an intimate relationship with God. But even if your father isn’t like that, you can take heart that you have another Daddy up there watching you. Even when we do really hurtful things, He’ll never stop loving us and his arms are always wide open to us. When we need anything or even want, God can definitely give me. Like perfect health, even a doctor can’t give you that but your Daddy who is Lord of the universe, king of kings, can. We are children of the KING. How we can ask for things and command things to be done (not bossing other people around cos they after all are also His children but like the devil etc). And we don’t just get tips, we get the amount we want. Even if other people stare at you thinking that you’re not smart enough or too young, you’re His child, you’re the one who can run and jump into his lap as and when you want, and if God says it, what they think doesn’t matter at all.