Over a
sea of candies and cut up papers, glue and ribbons, she whispers it soft. I ask her to say it again and my littlest
girl sings out, “I am so glad I get to be me.”
Those words met my mind
travelling ten other places, doing ten other things, things that were less
messy and probably more important, I would have missed this.
What do
we miss waiting and wishing for ten less pounds and ten more minutes? We look hard in the glass and reflect on what
is not there. We look at the Creator and
wonder if He missed a dash of bravery, or brilliance or beauty.
When do
we seize our own mess and see how He sees us?
When do we lay down the precepts of perfection and hold on to the
Perfector? When do we grasp His glory
and whisper… we are glad with exactly who we get to be?
He
pours out exactly who we are and then says, “That lacking, that piece that
feels like it’s missing, that’s where we get to do this thing together.” And the things, those mundane and miraculous
things we get to be a part of, they are worship. They are the offering we make to the One that
made us.
I praise you, for I am
fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very
well. Psalm 139:14
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