MY HEART, HIS THRONE -- I like this title. I was an open invittion to talk about my King. For if there is a throne--there has to be a King--Right? And if this throne is in my heart--that means that He lives and reigns in me. And nothing could be more exciting! The KING OF THE UNIVERSE LIVING WITH ME!
Ever since I became a Chrsitian I have loved that name for God. The words of Psalm 84 took root in me long ago, and keep flowing through my mine: my King and my God....??? But not everyone can relate to the concept of a King. When I was writing my latest book, Under the Spell of Mother Earth, some friends critiquted the manuscript for me, and found several references to King. "Take those out" they suggested. "Call Him Lord or God instead". Since we don't have a king in America, that title isn't relevant to us."
Some people react more strongly against the idea of a king. To a lot of women today--even in churches--the idea of a male God is bad enough--but a King! That means dictatorship, dominance, and all kinds of oppressive relationships that are totally outdated and absolutely not politically correct.
The problem is, they don't know my King. He isn't the way they describe Him at all. He reigns in heaven and on earth--whether we know Him or not--and whether people believe it or like it or not. But He has given us free will, and will not dominate us. Instead, He longs to be our Shepherd who leads us to peace and genuine freedom. He knows every day ahead, therefore only He knows what we need today to be prepared for tomorrow's challenges. If we make room for His throne in our hearts, He will lead us and work out His perfect plan for our lives.
Of course, most people don't want to trust Him as their King unless they know what that means. Which is why I want to help you know Him just a little bit better.
I was born in Norway the year Hitler's armies invaded our country. The war ended when I was only five, yet I remember well how everyond adored our king. In His name was Hakon 7, and he was a woncerful king--wise, kind, gentle and brave. I would run into the streets in Oslo with my friends, and we would use white chalk to write his insignia--H with 7--on walls and fences anywhere the Nazi soldiers would see it. We were telling them that we wanted our king to ule us--not their fuehrer, Hitler.
King Hakon loved us too. Immediately after the invasion, the Norwegioan parliament told him leave Norway and take refuge in England. But our king didn't want to leave us. For weeks, enemy bombers pursued him as he fled north from Oslo, hiding in forests and farms. Finally he was persuaded that Norway would be better off with a living king in England than a dead king in a cemetary, and he agreed to stay with our airforce in Little Norway--and fight for freedom from the British Isles.
Still this wonderful king was nothing like our heavenly king. King Haakon never knew MY name, nor did he ever come to visit my home. My hevenly King, whose power and sovereignty is far greater--whose kingdom stretches not only around the globe but into the farthest parts of the universe--knows MY NAME, and loves ME. He is with me all the time. He hears all my thoughts and sees my every action, and continues to care for me. Daily He shares His thoughts and plans with me, counsels me and encourages me.
He has always wanted this kind of relationship with His people. He created us for fellowship with Himself. He wanted to provide for us. But from the beginning, He watches the children He loved turn away from Him for other kinds of helps. This grieved Him. You who are parents of teenagers probably understand. You have invested your time, resources and heart in your children, but suddenly they prefer todo their own thing--and would rather not have you around. They don't want to go camping or bicycling with you anymore. One father was telling me that it felt as though he had lost his best friend. It hurst.
I hurt my heavenly Father that way.. I didn't grow up in a christian family--but every child learns something about God in school since we have a state church. I also had a missionary godmother in Madagascar, who proayed for me. Once home on fulough, she taught me the Lord's prayer. She told me to pray it every night--and I did. I would get on my knees, pray the words, and if I forgot one night, I said it twice the next. But that was as far as I grew spiritually.
We moved to America when I was a teenager, Each highschool year, I attended a new school. Since I was very shy, I didn't make friends easily, but Jesus was my best friend. I talked with Him all the time. I didn't know the Bible very well, I tried to read it once in a while, but it seemed dry and lifeless to me. Yet I knew that He loved me and was with me.
Met my husband who was a christian--fell in love with him partly becaue he could answer my questions about God. But after we were married I became increasingly critical both of his denomination and church--which seemed hypocritical to me. I would say things like, "Why do you ask God to bless the food," It doen't need it. Soon my husband realized that I wasn't a christian at all--and started to pray that God would change me.
As I pulled away from the God of my childhood, life became increasingly depressing. At first I thought I could control my life--I didn't need a King. I thorugh I was pretty fearless, after all I wasn't afraid of flying through a storm, or being out on the deck of ship when the waves washed across the deck. I loved skijumpingin Norway and took pride in doing all kinds of daring things. But now I found that I was paralyzed by fear of people. God has his ways of drawing people back to Himself. In my life, He did three things.