"I may have tasted peace, but to believe that the God of heaven and earth calls me beautiful--well, I think I could rest in that. If I truly knew that He was smitten with me, maybe I could take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and go out to face the world with confidence.
"If He really meant what He said, I could be secure enough to stand in the dark and wait for Him to come to my rescue. He would be the perfect place for my hope. His answer would make me strong enough to face the personal disappointment, conflict, and discouragement. If I knew that God called me beautiful, I could pursue my passions and live and love with abandon. I would not have to be guarded anymore. The desperate search would be over. I would be noticed. Desired. Known.
"As I have said, when a woman walks into a room she is either screaming, "Do you think I'm beautiful?" or she has been taught never to ask that question again. But every once in a while, a woman walks into a room and you know that she knows that God calls her beautiful. There is peace and strength and energy that comes from belonging to Him. There is a confidence that is captivating. I want to be that woman. Everything inside me wants to be a woman who moves in that kind of grace and assurance!
"If the question, "Do you think I'm beautiful?" came attached to my soul, then maybe the answer wasn't ever meant to fully come from this world. Maybe the purpose of the question is to take me by the hand and walk me into the presence of the Creator. My soul cries out and asks the questions meant to lead me to God. Maybe all that really matters is what He thinks of me.
"Have you ever heard your heart cry, "Do you think I'm beautiful?" Then let these words embrace you with their truth:
The king is enthralled by your beauty. Psalm 45:11"
I wrote this to a friend with intention to post it to my blog, but never found the time to do so. I'm making it now. This may be relatively old news, but I'd thought I'd share anyway. It's good to reflect.
"There's really nothing new in my world except for all my thoughts. My mom went to Conneticut for 2 weeks to be a temp nanny (I might've told you) and she was treated like a worthless servant. You'll have to see "The Nanny Diaries" when it comes to theaters, or read the book, because that's how mom was treated. Except her little charge was 12, not 4 years old.
My brother was in a car accident a couple weeks ago; T-boned on the driver's side. He walked away with only lacerations to his left upper arm/shoulder region and some stiff muscles. I cleaned him up after he had the glass removed by his boss. The accident was his fault, so that stinks, but he was insured. However, he now needs a new vehicle as he is currently bumming off friends for rides.
My dad recently found an insulin pump while snorkeling in the Boise river. I told one of the doctors I work with, because I know he is diabetic and wears a pump, to inquire whether or not I could eventually have the unit returned to its owner. He told me that he had treated a young patient who had lost her pump on the same river; he also informed me that pumps cost approximately $5, 000.00. After many phone conversations with the company that make the pumps, we received a call from the owner's mother. The owner was indeed the patient seen by my doctor friend. I wasn't there, but my mom reported an emotional thanks from the single mom who's insurance company only covers 1 pump every 5 years. Her daughter was having a difficult time administering herself the accurate amount of insulin. But because we found the old pump (damaged), insurance will cover any costs to fix/replace it.
Sarah is doing well, as much as I can tell when I see her. Seventeen and starting her senior year. I can hardly believe it. But seriously, did you really need an update on my family?? I suppose I enjoy talking about them since I spend most of my day with people who don't know them and/or don't care.
And I've been left to my thoughts, as I previously mentioned. You might have assumed I haven't spent a whole lot of time, if any at all really, in the Word. I started reading "Blue Like Jazz" if only to be putting something relatively stimulating into my brain. But then, after last night, I remembered something I'd read in "The Saving Life of Christ." It says that my life isn't mine. I don't have the right to choose how I spend my day/what I read/when I exercise/what I eat/etc. Those aren't my decisions. They are Christ's. Because this life isn't mine. I don't have the right, it's out of my hands. Thinking that way makes me step back and stop.
Yesterday at church the message was on Habakkuk with focus on the last 3 verses:
17 Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Savior. 19 The Sovereign LORD is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to go on the heights.
Some of my thinking while in warm and sunny Dunedin, New Zealand (14 Feb - 2 Dec 2005) and upon my return to The States.
'I is not galloping to any human bean country,' the BFG said. 'I is going to other places.'
"I may have tasted peace, but to believe that the God of heaven and earth calls me beautiful--well, I think I could rest in that. If I truly knew that He was smitten with me, maybe I could take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and go out to face the world with confidence.
