Today, I tried on my new dress. I hate my body.
My new dress would have looked better on me if my hips were wider, my belly flatter. I wish my waist was smaller and my shoulders, less broad.
I have no memory of feeling truly at home in my body. With every change my body has faced, it’s never quite there yet. I hate feeling this way, knowing that God sees me in a different light.
A bought temple.
A vessel unto His honour, unto His glory.
‘Then God said…’ , to birth all of creation ; when it came to me, He chose to zoom in.
He, the Potter and I, the clay.
God chose to mold me, in His image, out of His love. The mundane met the Divine, as a sculpted rib received The Breath of Life.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
I am precisely and attentively made.
I am distinct in a non-replicable way.
It’s illogical, I know, that sometimes I blindly use the imperfect standards of this world to judge the work of a perfect God, my perfect Potter.
I look forward to the day where I love my self wholly, the day I stop comparing myself, and the day I stop subjecting myself to standards my God did not set.
I will not curse the works of my Father’s hands.
Help me Holy Spirit ;
To see this bride as Christ sees her,
To love this bride as Christ loves her,
Help me, Holy Spirit.
Tomorrow, I will try on my new dress. May I love my body, Amen.
And God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very good…
Genesis 1:31
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