Some time ago, Mommy and Daddy and I went to a wondrous palace. We, along with many others, toured the interior halls and passageways. Mommy and Daddy carried me, as they should always. All of it was beauteous, spacious, and not owned by me. I did my best to remedy that particular predicament by barking out orders to all I saw, claiming them as my servants. I mean not to say I was metaphorically barking: I literally barked, quite a lot. It just sounded so majestic in the halls, I could not resist. Mommy and Daddy attempted to silence me, but to no avail. This palace, and its visitors, were meant to belong to me. It was not until we left that I saw a statue of Jesus and I realized what Mommy and Daddy were attempting to tell me throughout the tour: this was not to be my palace, but Jesus'. As such, I let him keep it, as I still love Him for His birthday on which I receive many presents, Worship Services when everyone may enjoy my presence, and saving us. Even so, it means not that I must be joyful in relinquishing my claim.
Cease your lollygagging, Daddy; build me one, too.
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