She says it in the sweetest little voice and she says it often.
When rain falls or ice cream fills her spoon.
When she builds sandcastles and stands back to admire them, she whispers….
“I am so glad I get to be me.”
To her breath itself is privilege. Do I find that privilege?
I am not fond of my not straight, not curly hair. I get uncomfortable when I forge into meetings with insufficient wisdom. I wish I would never worry and I sometimes forget important stuff. But can I say, I am glad I get to be me?
If we look at things even for the briefest moments from the Father’s eyes, He had the choice to sculpt our faces, to craft our noses, and turn ringlets in our hair. He had the choice to make us confident or cautious as well as creative or concrete.
And so do we.
IF we focus on the Master, doesn’t the masterpiece become more clear. It doesn’t eliminate our perceived shortcomings. It fills those spaces with Him.
When we are not enough, He is.
When we are too much, He is.
If I miss out being glad I get to be me; I tend to be less than grateful that He is He.
For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. Ephesians 2:10