The King & His Girl

Like a flower in bloom,

I sit before my Father and allow Him to make me over….

In His image.

With peace and love, He breathes life in me.

With mercy and grace, He clothes me.

With identity, He raises my head.

And with authority, He crowns me.

Never again will society define me,

Because the King of Glory claims me.

His love for me, never a fleeting thing.

It is the cornerstone to my very being.

His Word is the garment of praise turned wedding dress as I wait at the door for Him.

Waiting to be presented, no longer a princess but a Queen who’s patient.

Patient enough to wait for her Father to set the stage and prepare the tables…

The ones she once begged for scraps at,

Didn’t know how to act because she was lost But He restored her.

No longer wrapped in bandages but heavenly linens highlighting her purity.

This is destiny…

Where Father and daughter take the first dance.

It is He who gets the first glance of His craftsmanship before He presents her to the world.

Just the greatest Father and His girl.

And I’m proud of it.

His love- never failing and completely mine. And I, completely His.

What a peace, when heaven touches earth,

With every forehead kiss,

I smile.

Bowing low to His sovereignty,

He crowns me.

With His Spirit and Word, He equips me.

I step forward to claim my territory,

The Queen Standard rising.

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