As a generation, we are not introspective – self-centered, yes, but not philosophically questioning. Somewhere in the glitz and the glam of social media, we’ve forgotten to evaluate who we are at the core of our God-created beings, but rather gotten very skilled at the art of broadcasting the pieces of ourselves that measure up, attract readers, and achieve “likes” and “comments.”
We are a junkyard of mismatched parts strung together by fake smiles and hopeful soliloquies.
Take a step back. Pause. What does your SOUL look like when it is STRIPPED NAKED? Would you be so bold as to even uncover the ugly and the marred, the lavishly passionate and the shriveling fears?
Read The Song for all the Women blog post by Ann Voskamp and allow your heart to bathe in honesty once again. And, yes, guys, this message is for you as well.
Christ came for the broken and the lowly. He came for this ordinary girl, because He saw something extraordinary, something unique, something that He would be glorified by. His body was made a mess, so that this ragged soul would mend.
So, who am I, this Ordinary Girl?
I am the girl that was once too big and then too small. Who hated the reflection of curves that stared back at her in the mirror and longed for the tomboy’s image she once possessed. I am the girl that Christ held in His lap and made whole. I am that girl.
I am the girl that sunk into a pit of nothingness when depression seized and wracked a soul without life, a soul in despair, a soul in hiding. I am the girl who was beckoned to at the well of Living Water and made to drink deeply of His life. I am that girl.
I am the girl with plans for running a great, big orphanage who then discovers that her own body has betrayed her. She sees blood when she wants to hear the screams and squeals of a newborn child. This twisted scene was too twisted back by the Lord who lowered Himself to bleed and scream, a Lord who carries when strength fails. I am that girl.
I am the girl who loves to write and make music with the flow of side-by-side words. I am the girl who grieves with poetry and rejoices with jazz. I am that girl.
I am the girl who listens to the rise and fall of Mumford & Sons’ lyrics, then turns and walks with the words of Amazing Grace on her lips. I am the girl who dances to freedom. I am that girl.
I am the girl who loves turquoise and grey, but won’t turn away from oranges and scarlets, indigos and lime greens. I am that girl.
Just an ordinary girl.
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