Friday, April 4, 2008

ShareYourStoryNow: 'Finding My Identity, Growing In Self-Esteem'

Sometimes my "blog time" appears to be going nowhere. I have no devotion to write. I don't know if I should be "Digging" or "Googling" or what...ever. I don't have a plan!

This morning was just such a time, when shortly into it I ran across and found a gem. Now whether you'll get as big a kick out of it as I did is not my call, but I hope you do.

It made my blog time all the worthwhile!

This from Abby's story on

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. - Psalm 139:13-14 NIV

The other night I caught myself cleaning the house, and during one of my many breaks, a song by Ginny Owens came on called “True Story.” It’s one of my favorites, but I hardly ever really listened to the lyrics.

The chorus melted my heart. I must admit, it made me say “Oh wow.”

You see my imperfections
Still You say I’m a masterpiece
A marvelous reflection
The image of Yourself in me
You paint with strokes of grace
Undoing my disguise
You say beauty lies in the true story

She nailed it right on! God sees all my imperfections: my stubborn mind, my doubting heart, my constant learning soul. Through it all, He sees His reflection.

He takes every label that I have placed on myself and slowly but surely He peels them apart till they are no more.

As a young child I dealt with self-esteem issues. Daughter of parents who were immigrants, I didn’t speak fluent English until the age of 11, my hair was a frizz ball and my clothes were often hand-me-downs.

In my parents attempt to have me in the best schools possible, I was always in schools where little girls had the latest brand-name clothing, had perfect smooth hair and could speak more than English, but also French.

As I grew older and was finally able to tame my wild hair, learn English to the point it became my first language and had a part time job where I was able to buy some clothes for school … I learned that I was never the daughter of immigrants, but the daughter of a mighty King.

It took me a bit to accept that. Geesh, I still deal with it today! It’s something that on a daily basis I have to remind myself of … that I have a God who loves every curl on my head, and then some. Amazing isn’t it?

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