I Prefer the King

“He heals the broken hearted, and binds up their wounds.” -Psalms 147:3


As a child, a lot of my time was spent at my Memaw’s house. My parents would drop me off at her house in the mornings…I would get off the school bus at her house in the afternoons…and every summer was spent with her. It was there that she told me I made the best mud pies in the world. It was also there that I learned it wasn’t the best idea to climb her dogwood tree. I learned how to properly dig for fish bait in my Papa’s worm hole and I truly felt that I was the best cherry tomato grower in the history of….ever. The Sear’s catalog was used for only one purpose in my world and that was to cut out paper dolls. I set up a huge family of dolls under one of the beds at her house and I can still remember Memaw laughing as she pulled them out one afternoon. I pushed her buggy when we went to town on Friday’s and if I was good (and I was always good even when I definitely wasn’t) I was rewarded with a corn dog from the Winn-Dixie deli for lunch. And most days…after all the chores were done…after she made my cherry kool aid in her glass pitcher and stirred it with her wooden spoon…she would read to me. One afternoon, when I was really young, I remember that she read the nursery rhyme, “Humpty Dumpty”. The rhyme upset me and I began to cry because I couldn’t understand why the egg had to stay broken. I can’t remember what Memaw told me to take my attention off the broken egg…but I do remember that the story of Humpty Dumpty wasn’t a pleasant experience.


Years later, as a grown woman with children of her own, I was standing in my kitchen while I talked with my best friend on the phone. She and I somehow began talking about that silly rhyme. At the point I was facing in my life…I felt broken in many different pieces….my jaded reasoning had me relating to the egg. I quoted to her, “…and all the king’s horses and all the kings men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.” I could hear the genuine love of my Savior in her voice when she replied, “You’re right. All the king’s horses and all the kings men, couldn’t put him back together again….but if they had only allowed the King to work with the pieces….”


How many times in life do we need to be reminded to allow God the opportunity to work on our behalf? How many times do we unnecessarily struggle with burdens when God desires us to cast all our cares on Him? How awesome does it feel when we finally allow God to begin to mend our hurt? I have stood in both places. I have questioned whether God would be able to piece back my broken heart….and I have sat in the very presence of my Savior and felt His touch as He began to smooth the rough places of hurt. I ate with a coworker at lunch and argued with her. I told her, “I want God to heal this hurt!” She smiled and said, “Then allow Him to do it.” That frustrated me, “I AM TRYING TO LET HIM!”, I shouted. She smiled and shouted back, “THEN QUIT TRYING AND JUST LET HIM!”


It’s humorous in ways, but true. When we keep trying to do things in our way and at our time, then we haven’t reached the place that we have allowed God the freedom He needs to work. The Psalmist tells us, “He heals the broken hearted…” HE does. Not our own devices…not our own plans…but GOD does. We may find temporary relief by our own methods but our actual healing can only be found at the hand of God. We may allow others to try and sooth pains…and for a while it will work…but as I’ve stated it’s only temporary. Others, like our own selves, are apt to fail and disappoint people. They can’t always be there 100% of the time. If we place our complete confidence in them we will be disappointed. But if we could only grasp the unfailing love of our Savior…if we could truly comprehend the depth of His passion for His children…then I’m certain we wouldn’t be so willing to look for alternatives to the true answer that is found in God.


If the King had tried to piece Humpty Dumpty back together again, there could possibly be a better ending to the story. Twenty something years after I heard the story it finally made sense….They didn’t allow the King to try to piece him back together. I may have related my life to the egg but I refuse to have the same ending as that egg…I’m going to call on the King. I prefer the King.


Author: Britney Wilkes


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Published in: on June 30, 2011 at 2:08 pm  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. *tear* Sheesh…that was beautiful. All hail the King!

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