And a princess is made...

I know--didn't take this picture. Wouldn't that have been glorious though?

Yes. I did wake up at five a.m. this morning to watch the Royal Wedding. And...I would gladly give up an hour or two of sleep many, many times over to see it again. I have admired the English monarchy since I was a child--after all, like English children I was raised on Shakespeare and Austen and Dickens and Tennyson. I think, however, that there is a considerable amount of awkwardness about the way we Americans sit here and gaze across the Atlantic pond at the place and the people that make all the legends and the literature seem so real to us. After all, my people have been Americans for at least four generations now and oh dear how we do love our country. We take pride in our independence, in our kingless-ness, in our blessed simplicity.

And yet. And yet we still find ourselves watching the pomp, the traditions, the heraldry across the water and see a picture of something beautiful--something to look up to in respect, and dare I say it; something to remind us of our great King, Jesus Christ and His eternal, glorious reign. Our Lord is a King, not a president. He has taken upon Himself the care and protection and ultimate salvation of His people. He is greater than King Arthur, greater than any of the Edwards, Henrys or Georges. And when we pray, we are like those adoring people outside the gates of Buckingham palace (except incomprhensibly the gates have been opened to us), eyes fixed on the crimson draped balcony, but looking not at the symbols of our King, but at our King Himself. And He is like, but infinitely better than those royals on that balcony, looking down in love and favor on their people. Because where they are living lamp posts, He is the living sun.