What happens when a pig sees a pearl?
Perhaps due to its luster, the animal might attempt mastication.
Since it is awfully hard and tasteless, it is but apropos for the pig to spit the pearl.
The hog only cares for what is edible and what fills up its belly.
I once acted like swine. My agenda was simple: it was all about me. I never committed to anything not unless its instrumentality would clearly favor me. As I looked around, I began noticing that I was not the only porker. Everywhere I went, the herd was supremely attracted to its own existence. Just like the rest, I turned fat with ethnocentric-steroids.
One day, I met a prince. He told me that he was formerly a pig. At first, I did not believe him until he showed me his photo album. He then revealed to me how one can be transported from the pigsty.
With measured trepidation, I considered the alluring possibility. One day, I was not able to stand the staggering reflection of beauty. I melted and asked him to lead me to the King who can undo my curse.
I was led to a Cross, instead. There hung a pulp-beaten King staring at me with utmost compassion. He saw right through my heart and in a mere twinkling, my snout was gone.
When a pig turns into a prince, he looks at a pearl of great price quite differently. Beauty takes on a different hue. The world stops revolving on the axis of self. It turns into a panoramic canvas of beauteousness.
When I got introduced to Danielle, the pearl-in-her was so resplendent to ignore. I was no longer a pig looking for corn husks. I was a prince ushered to an incredible benefaction of grace-laden royalty.
The most unusual thing was that I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I was a sardonic creature transformed unto Christlikeness.
My King is Jesus. I have become his little prince. I am not escorted by some valentine date. I had been endowed with a most ravishing princess that harks my feelings back to an old rugged tree where it all ironically began.
I worship Jesus Christ! ... I was once a lowly pig but now His nasikh (נסיך).
