Although college has managed to hurl at me an insane amount of uncomfortable change, challenging course work, and never-ending hours, I combat my own inner battles every day. I'm disappointed when I look in mirror. I don't like the way clothes cling to my body. I wish I was shorter, skinner, prettier, nicer, stronger, braver -- more something. I whine and complain and mope, constantly comparing myself to other women who seem more "perfect" and "put together" than I can manage. On most days, I can't seem to be satisfied with who I'm becoming.
But then I remember that I was created by God. By a King. By my rock, my hope, and my salvation. I was thought of such an unfathomably long time ago by someone so magnificent, omnipotent, and unconditionally loving. Sometimes I imagine God, sitting on his throne, planning out His children. I see Him with a notepad, black pen in hand...
"Keller, she's a brave one...I like the name 'Helen.' I hope Arthur and Karen understand...man, that girl's gonna do great things...in her own way."
"Okay, now, we need a leader...he has to be brave. He has to be captivating...to get people's attention. Martin Luther King...Jr. Definitely a junior in title, but a true leader in every way. He's going to make the change."
Then I see Him pause. Pausing to create me.
"What about this one? What should we call her?...with her olive skin, and curly locks...Alix. Alix Carruth. I've got plans for her...plans to give her a hope and a future."
Now, I'm not equating myself to the leader of the Civil Rights Movement on any level. But we come from the same God. We're cut form the same cloth. We're grown from the same seed. MLK and I, we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
I overlook that detail of the Bible way too often. I neglect the scripture. I ignore the blessings. I am too overwhelmed by self-doubt and a lack of confidence to realize that I come from someone so insanely perfect and powerful and praiseworthy. Someone who took the time to stop, think, and create little old me. A mess of a girl who sins daily and fails to recognize the love bestowed upon her. The creator of this entire universe set aside a time to draw a web for the life of a human so sizably insignificant in the grand scheme of His reign...simply because He loves me. Simply because He loves each of us. We can't even begin to understand the scope of a love that deep, that passionate, that selfless.
Again, in my little imaginative head, I see God sitting there, watching me. I see Him beaming at me like a proud father. I see Him cry when I cry, laugh when I laugh, smile when I smile. But on those days of self-loathing and sadness, I imagine He's a little sad too, like a daddy who knows the true potential of his little girl and watches her fail to notice it all.
"My precious daughter...if only you could understand the adoration I have for you. You are beautiful, my love...there is no flaw in you...Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations...You are mine, Alix. Never forget that."
My Father loves me. He thinks that I am beautiful. He thinks my body is perfect just the way it is. He thinks my hair is unique, even in all of its curly glory. He thinks my smile is captivating and infectious God knows that I am His, that I am made in the image of His righteous Son with a destiny mapped by His own hand. And He shines approval down onto me every single day -- I just have to look up and soak it in.
