Parable of the Queen and the Princess

There once was a gracious, compassionate, beautiful queen who ruled her kingdom in kindness. She was loved by all of her subjects because she loved each of them. She was just one queen, so she could not meet all of their needs, but she did her best - and she did a lot. Whether her capacity to serve her subjects on a given day was big or small, without exception, her subjects always felt loved. And this made the queen happy.

The queen had a small daughter. A young princess. She was good and pure with little experience. The little princess understood that her mother, the queen, was busy. She admired her queen very much, and was okay with taking the back burner. The queen needed to spend her time serving her subjects. The princess aspired to be like her one day.

The princess would make her own meals. Prepare herself for bed. Work on her lessons alone. All the while thinking how she wanted to be so compassionate and full of service that she would also be so busy, she would have no time to think of herself.

The princess sometimes got scared of the dark, but the queen would be off helping a subject. The princess understood. And waited for when the queen would have time.

The princess sometimes needed help with a project, but the queen was busy. The princess understood. And waited for when the queen would have time.

The princess sometimes became sad. But the queen was busy. The princess understood. And hoped one day the queen would make time for her.

Eventually, the princess realized the queen would never have time. She accepted it readily. Because of her deep respect of and loyalty to the queen, she grew a sense of identity in her support of the queen, rather than her acknowledgment of herself.

The queen's sense of identity also began to shift. As the princess hid her needs, she seemed more independent. And so the queen felt her identity in her work, rather than her care of her princess. Her service, though important, could not match the fulfillment of being needed by her child. And so "what she could do" became "never enough." The queen pushed her capacities and chased an unreachable sense of fulfillment in service, while the princess felt less and less valued.

The princess began to suspect service to others was more important  than she was. And she understood. She admired her mother. Who could do anything. Who could be the best mother if she had time to do anything less important. Sometimes the princess felt sad about her role, but knew she wasn't important enough to detract from her mother's busy tasks.

Although she didn't want it to, the sadness built up inside the young princess. Sometimes it would burst out, and the queen - who used to be understanding - could not afford the time it took to calm her. For the queen was now overwhelmed by chasing the status of being able to do anything.

Now. You, reading this parable may behold this mess and think "This is a parable of a mother and a child, and the way to fix it is clear. The mother needs to rediscover her identity in the nurturing of the child, and the child needs to realize she is worth being nurtured." But this parable is not about two separate people. It is about two halves of the self. There are child-like pieces of us that need permission to feel sad and listened to; feel scared and comforted. And this is not wrong. There is a "queen" inside of us who can do many wonderful things, but must not forget her primary responsibility. The balance between the queen and the princess is who we really are. If we separate the two roles, be tear ourselves apart. In being a wise judge between the two halves we find our identity.

Pieces

This is a poem I wrote for my boyfriend (now husband) a year or so ago. I am learning that even pain and insecurity has value. I'm grateful I wrote this so now I can see how far I've come. Thanks be to God. 

Pieces

I am made of beautiful pieces 

Sparkling crystals hanging delicately 

Shining, captivating, inspiring to those who see the sparkle 

Perfectly arranged. I am perfectly content in who I am 

  

Until I forget 

That these pieces make up me 

  

Others, captivated by the sparkle see how my pieces could enrich them 

So they take them 

They twist the lines from which they hang 

They make them fit into their puzzle 

I am still beautiful 

But not free 

But not valued for my original arrangement 

Lost in their picture 

Hidden. My sparkle gets harder to see. 

  

My light dims as I strive to fit in their picture 

I miss my radiance; my freedom 

I long to help others, but forget I am able to if I don’t fit their picture 

So I escape 

  

The spaces between my sparkling pieces seem empty to me now 

They probably still shine 

They probably still inspire 

But all I see are the spaces 

And when I do see the pieces, I see failure 

They didn’t fit their picture 

  

Then you come.  

You see the radiance that I am still relearning how to see 

You see the arrangement of pieces that makes me who I am 

You see the crystals which have always been there, that are all I need. 

You recognize them 

And you have no desire to move them. To twist them. To make them fit you. 

Because they already fit you 

  

And although I am a perfectly arranged set of pieces just as I am, 

Your pieces fit mine 

My spaces don’t need to be filled for me to be happy and complete 

But you fill them anyway 

And now I am not only complete 

I am full 

  

I am free 

I am free to be free 

I have never felt such liberty 

I have never felt so unafraid 

  

But I am still afraid 

  

Out of habit, I still find myself fearing that at some point my pieces will not line up 

Out of habit, I expect you will begin to see ways in which I don’t fit. You will change your mind. 

Out of habit, I look for ways that I need to change to fit you 

I don’t need to change, and you show me 

But I can’t fathom that I could be good enough 

  

I can see how my pieces are beautiful independently 

But they have always lost their beauty when I’ve tried to fit someone else 

You are different 

I can see your pieces fit mine so perfectly 

But sometimes I am too scared to believe what I see 

100%

Today in Church a brother gave a talk and shared a quote by Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin. It was something like this:

"Most of the good done in the world is done by people who are not functioning at 100%"

This brings to my remembrance and experience I had at stake conference about a year ago. A sister gave a beautiful talk. She had a very significant lisp and other speech impediments. And it didn't mater. Her testimony of Christ, the radiance in her countenance, her insight about applications of faith - they were powerful and inspiring. Her speech impediment didn't matter. It didn't matter at all.

We are not required to be 100% in order to serve. In fact, we are expected to serve while we are not 100%. I may never be 100% okay in this life. I'm often sad, anxious, or scared for no visible reason. It is frustrating. It makes me want to wait to serve so I can actually do what I know I can do on a "normal" day.

It seems the older I get the "normal" days are becoming less normal and more of an exception. I can't wait to be 100% to serve. And Heavenly Father is happy with what I can do. I don't need to hide. I have been able to hide my disorders while serving - either by pushing through until I'm drained, or hiding from responsibility until I feel I can put on my perfect face. But maybe I will be like the inspiring sister from last year's stake conference. As more stress makes my anxiety more apparent, I may not be able to hide it. But it doesn't matter. It won't change the truth or beauty of serving and testifying of Christ.

I can be brave. For Christ. With Christ.