My sweet man is a great golfer.  He loves it and it provides him with the relaxation and intentional glance away from work that he needs, now and again (and again).  There was a development in Texas that we were interested in looking at; a place where the lots are actually acreage that surrounds a world-class golf course.  It’s called Boot Ranch. We discovered it last year, on a similar trip, and Hubs called the man that we talked to, and arranged a golf-outing so he could test the course.  I agreed to ride along (you don’t want to even think about my golf-swing!).  

We pulled up to the gate-house, and there was a man there that said, “You must be Mr. and Mrs. G–!  Welcome to Boot Ranch!”
A little taken aback, we replied that we were, indeed, the G–s and he ushered us on up the hill to the clubhouse.
As we pulled in, there were five people gathered to greet us: the man we had called, the golf pro, the head of catering, our caddie, and the manager of the pro shop.  They all addressed us by our first names, took my man’s clubs from the car, had cups of coffee waiting for us (with cream and sugar at the ready, so it could be doctored to our specifications), and a golf cart equipped with a cooler full of water and Gatorade. They showed me to the ladies locker room, where there was a locker with my name on it, and, of course, Hubs had one in the men’s locker room, too.
Along the course, there was a little house on the 9th hole where a man was busy making us snacks; little sliders or lamb-chops.  At 13, there was a stand where servers were ready with a wine-tasting and complimentary cheeses. After a fabulous round on an outstanding course, there was a table set for two on the balcony of the dining room, overlooking the 18th hole and the surrounding Hill Country vista.  A waiter greeted us by name and presented us with a menu monogrammed with our names. We enjoyed an extraordinary meal together, and were joined for dessert by the man we’d called to arrange it all.
Of course, they were trying to sell us on the club. They wanted us to feel like we were part of the “family” there at Boot Ranch, but they succeeded at making us feel like royalty! I kept thinking back on our lineage, wondering if there was a prince or, at the very least, a duke that someone had kept under wraps. But no, ours is an ordinary ancestry of normal human beings; flawed, and not really deserving of such fine attention.
On the way back to the hotel, I thought about the day. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. There will be another welcoming committee in our future.  We will walk through another gate where we will be welcomed by name.  On the other side of those gates will be a welcoming committee that will rejoice in our being there, usher us to a new home far more grand than anything that earth has to offer. Amazingly, no one there will be trying to sell us on anything. In fact, there isn’t a price we could possibly pay to live there. But that’s okay, because the price has already been paid.
Even with our lacking lineage.
Even though we’re undeserving.
We will be treated like the royalty that we are – heirs to the King.