Daughter of the King
A creative writing of a woman’s identity
Background: While doing Missionary work among the Xhosa people in Southern Africa as a young woman I noticed the gross inequality between the males and females of the local communities. Great was my struggle for many years as I realized that this same gender inequality existed not only in 3rd world cultures, but also in our christian churches – it only displayed differently as women not fit for Pastoral leadership…How I thank my Father for the revelation that He had brought to my heart in His timing…
The sparrow pitched himself on top of the white cross as if to proclaim with every chirp that he had found his home.
My thoughts travel back to life in my home village while the heat of the morning rest on my brow like thick incense. Makoti’s * and Makhulu’s * would be bending over the cooking fires now while the Intombi’s * would be swatting the flies that want to settle on the young Abantwana.* With a deep sigh my eyes focus on the invitation in front of me.
“Listen, O daughter, consider and incline your ear; forget your own people also, and your father’s house; so the King will greatly desire your beauty; because He is your Lord, worship Him. “
The cheeky sparrow flaps his wings and circles the cross. I remember the words of Jesus: ‘Do not worry, saying “What shall we eat” Or “What shall we drink? Or “What shall we wear?” for your Heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.’
The shrill whistle of the train pierce the words in front of me as I wonder if the holy anointing oil is fit for the heads of women for it was never to be poured out on the flesh. ^ The invitation of the King lies unanswered in my lap as I wrestle with the fragrant vision of myrrh, cassia, sweet cinnamon, cane and olive oil. ^
A quiet, gentle breeze from the valley carry the scent of lilies and roses as I notice that the little church seems to be leaning to one side today, as if the foundation is uneven and puts the cross at a disadvantage.
Thoughts jab my chest as I imagine how beautiful the women in my home village would look with the acceptance of their value as the King’s daughters dressed in royal garments and how the ugliness of dirt and poverty would be transformed by the King’s righteous scepter. The oil of joy and gladness will rest on their offspring instead of the buzzing flies…But where will they worship, and what Kingly work will there be for them to do? Perhaps, like Lydia, the seller of purple cloth, they could gather by the river…
I look up at the cross and hear the noise of the sparrows, as if with every screech to demand answers: “What is the worth of a King’s daughter?” and “Does the King anoint our heads with oil even as the good Shepherd anoints the heads of His Sheep?
Weary from struggling with my thoughts I turn over the invitation in my lap and almost jump out of my skin, for boldly it says: “You are worth much more than a sparrow. You are worth the redemption price of a son.** I gave My One and Only Son in exchange for you to be queens and joint heirs of my Covenant Promises to Abraham and David. *** This shall be the sign of My anointing on your life: You shall bear the image of the
Christ, the Anointed One.” ^^
Hastily I rise to enter the little church and remind myself to mail the letter with Good News to my village. “The King has entered His chambers; His Son is preparing a feast; there is lots of work to do and He is asking for you.”
Footnotes on the Xhosa Words:
· * Makoti – Young married woman
· * Makhulu – Grandmother
· * Intombi – girl
· * Abantwana – children
· ** Numbers 3 : 11 – 13
· ** Numbers 3 : 44 –
· ** 1Corinthian 6 : 20
· *** 2 Cor. 6:16 – 17
· *** 1 Peter 2 : 4 – 5
· ^ Exodus 30 : 22-33
· ^^ 2 Cor.1 : 21; 1 John 2:27 – 3: 1
Written by : Yulande Oosthuyzen
March 02, 2011
