A letter to the Royal Baby…

I’ve been reading a little bit about the royal baby and am fascinated with the fanfare surrounding his birth. Today a 41-gun royal salute from the King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery will take place as the troop rides past Buckingham Palace. All of Her Majesty’s ships, home bound or on international waters are now flying the Royal Navy Ensign flag to commemorate the birth. This baby is a day old and is wealthier than any of us will ever be and has a whole world watching his every move.

It makes me think of Jesus, the KING of Kings. When he was born there was no 41-gun salute or flag raised for him. There wasn’t a world glued to their televisions or iPhones waiting for the breaking news alert.


He was born in a stable of animals. He had no clothes and probably no money. The only way that the outside world knew he was born was in the form of the bright star of Bethlehem. Did He have droves of people flocking to camp out for his birth announcement or to see him? No. He had a few shepherds and 3 wise men drop by for a visit and to bring a few gifts. He grew up to be a man who worked with His hands and only had 3 years of His “celebrity” ranking before people turned on Him and beat Him to death.

Is this how we treat our King?

A baby, who 3rd in line to the Throne of England, is treated better than the King of Kings who offers you everything you need including eternal life.

So to this baby I would say–

Dear 8 pound, 6 ounce baby boy:

Welcome to the world! I’m sure your grandmother would have been overjoyed with your sweet bundle-ness! You don’t know it yet but there is a whole world watching you. People have been lined in the streets for weeks awaiting your arrival. They are placing bets about what your name will be and who you will be named after. I hope your parents are rebels and name you something like Chase or Mason instead of the anticipated George or James.

I hope your Mum and Dad raise you in tradition to teach you manners, people skills and responsibility but I hope they break the rules too and let you jump in mud puddles, catch lightening bugs and eat with your fingers.

You are a child. You are not the King–yet. Please, be a child. Throw tantrums, color on the walls, pretend to be a Superhero, build a treehouse, skin your knees.

You will live a life where you will be a very influential person because of the status you were born into. I pray that you will live life to your greatest potential. That you would grow to be a good man who cares about the needs of his people. That you would continue the work of your descendants in {what I call} the mission field–taking care of those who live well below your means. That you would come to know Jesus as your personal Savior and heed the still small voice of the Holy Spirit as you lead many countries.

For now, be nice to your Mum and Dad. They will endure many challenges as new parents. They don’t have to get up in the middle of the night with you, they have people to do that, but I hope they seize the opportunity to jump into parenthood full force and enjoy your sweet baby smells and cuddles in the midst of sleepless nights. Soon you will grow up faster than they want and you may even rule over your Mum someday, but for now be a baby. Live your childhood with reckless abandon in your innocence and imagination.

You are destined for greatness!


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