Sunday my prince will come.
No, seriously. My Prince Charming will be here on Sunday. At least that’s what the side of his box says. According to the instructions for “Magical Grow a Frog to Prince”, all I have to do is add water and “Prince will be fully grown in 72 hours”. It also promises that he’ll be safe and ton-toxic.
I tried this instant relationship with a “Grow Your Own Cowboy” a while back, but that venture didn’t have the word “magical” attached to it. My sister in NJ (she’s in the same single wait that I am) sent me this “Frog to Prince” and bought one for herself as well. It was pretty funny last night on the phone – she was in NJ in the middle of a blizzard, and I was here in FL with the doors wide open – but together we followed our instructions, watched the outer frog shells disappear, and now we both have tiny little Prince figures who just need time to grow into Mr. Charming by Sunday, which, of course, is Valentine’s Day.
If only life could really be guaranteed like that! We’ve all received the tempting e-mails promising us that if we forward them to 10 people in the next 5 minutes, our prayers will be answered within 24 hours. God doesn’t work that way. Sometimes He has us wait. Sometimes we wait a whole lot longer than 72 hours. But I’d still rather trust Him than follow the “guaranteed” instructions on the side of a box, or relayed in an e-mail.
“My soul waits silently for God alone. For my expectation is from Him”. Ps. 62:5
And I’m going to wait for God to bring me His choice of a Prince Charming. The one in the jar on my kitchen table is looking kind of scary right now. The black smudge on his face may turn into a mouth, but then again…