“Will You Dance With Me?”


ImageOver the last year and a half, give or take, our oldest daughter has LOVED playing with, reading, dressing up as, or reenacting anything that is remotely closely tied to princesses. This is a new thing for me. I grew up in a home with two boys, no sisters, and no real close girl cousins. The onslaught of pink was one thing, but princesses are an entirely different thing all together. No the princess obsession has provided for some heart melting moments in the reenacting (“Good night my prince!”) and for some Gospel/justice interpretations in the story times. (“Just like Cinderella, there are so many girls who are not allowed to leave homes because of mean people. Can we pray for those girls?”) Yet, a few days ago I realized a great draw back to this love of princesses.

Brylie was insisting that Christina dance with her, a normal thing, but there was something new twist in her logic for us to dance with her. She said,

 “Dance with me! Dance with me! I’m wearing a pretty dress! Come dance with me!”

This made me sad because I realized soon after that one of the songs in her newest princess book sings these exact words. I don’t want her believing that Christina or I, and particularly any boy, need any other reason to dance with her other than her simply being Brylie.

It’s fun seeing little girls get dressed up and pretend to be princesses and royalty. I think one of the reasons why it’s so intoxicating for us as adults to drink in the joy girls exude while they are lost in the “princess wonderland” is that for those moments they actually believe they are all the things princesses represent. Royalty, beauty, lovable, valued.

As adults we’ve long been callused to the belief that we are beautiful, worthy. Long ago we gave up on the idea that we could ever be considered royalty. So we live vicariously through these girls’ joy-filled props that set are often setting stage for much of the same disillusion we fell victim to when we realized the humanity behind the princess stories. Humanity that shows us that Cinderella found her beauty after a dramatic makeover, Ariel fought for plastic surgery reconstruction to save her from her perceived flaws, and Belle, the most educated of all princesses, traded her books for ball gowns.

Here’s the thing. Before my daughters were born, and ever since, they were and will be royalty. They are daughters of not just “a” king but THE KING. Their King and Father is the God has reigned for all generations has sealed the truth of their beauty, strength, worth, and value in them before they were born and reveals these realities in fuller ways with each passing day. For this reason, I will work hard to raise my daughters to confidently believe that when they say, “Will you dance with me?” there are no other qualifications needed with that request.

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