This is a core memory for me. I was not quite four and certainly not allowed to sit in the beautiful pink velvet armchair that had belonged to my great-grandmother. I was pretty certain it was reserved for princesses; I had never seen another soul sit in said chair. Yet my mother had directed me and my brother to perch in the throne of pink velvet and I obliged. Then my baby sister was settled between us like sapphire in open prongs.
Tag: beloved
I read it in a book once, how some Christians in China leave an empty chair at the center of their home, representing the presence of the King in their lives. It’s so difficult to keep His sovereignty in perspective, I wonder if this wouldn’t be a helpful practice for all believers. The Unseen One has supreme authority in His story. Our lives are only brief lines and stanzas in the saga He’s penning.