Someday My Prince Will Come

pcharles-1The lilting strains of the Viennese waltz Someday My Prince Will Come is forever embedded in my musical vocabulary from my childhood.  I just didn’t expect him to be 11 weeks old, a ball of fluff and under 3 pounds. Meet Prince Charles. Royalty came home with me today.

Mom and I call him Prince, Dad calls him Charlie.  He’s smart enough to figure out both names are his.

If you follow me at all on Instagram, you’ve probably met Gracie. I prayed for her before she was born, saw Jesus paint her in her mama’s womb and visited her for 8 weeks solid until she was old enough to come home with me.

I brought her home ready to do this puppy parenting thing head on. Yesterday I had to make one of the hardest decisions love makes to let go, to admit she will do best in a family with kids to match her boundless energy and with a strong loving hand to channel her spunk into world-class puppy-dom.  She is an amazing pooch and I miss her.

But when you really love, you love enough to let go and choose what is best for the one you love.  Even to your own pain. Especially when she is a gorgeous 3 lb ball of fire who needs a family who will love to watch her ignite the world around her.   {Any takers?  I’d sure love to know she has a home worthy of her unique amazingness. She can be flown to you depending on the situation and the family breeder she comes from is probably the best breeder in the region, if not nationwide.}

This letting-go-again hit so hard because of my heart still stripped raw with last year’s infinitely harder decision to do the same with my family in Africa. I thought there just couldn’t be any tears left, that my soul was rung clean out of them.  Just a little jar made it all spill again.

I took Gracie back today after a hard night. It was the right thing to do.  Plain and simple, all emotion somehow laid aside to choose what was right. Not what was easy.  Even though Gracie is a hypo-allergenic Yorkipoo, somehow my crazy allergy issues found a way to be allergic to her. I couldn’t live on Benadryl forever. Even though she made me want to try.

What the last two years broke out of me, she has been part of seeing restored. She insisted I get up each morning and wouldn’t take no for an answer.  She reminded me grace has teeth.  Grace isn’t all cuddly and soft and gentle.  It has fire, spunk and relentless tenacity.  She reminded me how to be strong.

And even though God showed me Gracie, He gave me Prince.

Gracie was exactly what I asked for and not at all what I needed.  Prince is a total surprise from heaven and not what I asked for at all but exactly what I need.  I didn’t know him or pray for him or invest hours in bonding with him. God was hiding him for me and he was simply waiting to be found.  Some of heaven’s greatest treasures are like that… hidden FOR us, not FROM us. And they are always exactly what we need.

Prince is a toy poodle who is a smart, sensitive, gentle cuddle-bug.  Seeing as he will be my service dog who helps me navigate some of the long-term effects from all the malaria and who helps me hear my alarm clock, security issues and voices spoken behind me… being a cuddler is pretty much his core job description at this point.  He is already an expert at that.

With barely two hours of knowing me, he has followed me around and sat at or lay right by my foot all night. He reminds me true royalty is best seen low with a towel washing, or in his case licking, feet.

I’m grateful for grace and royalty.  The road ahead looks bright.  Unpaved as ever, but bright with promise.  And I’d want it no other way.  Love you all!