It is difficult to be beautiful to only God.
Confused? I am.
It is complicated.
To write it feels like I want to cheat on God. To take my life’s puzzle that belongs to Him and go elsewhere to look for that final piece to complete it.
But it’s true.
It is abstract, intangible, and, if I’m really honest, ostensibly insufficient.
I imagine the confidence that comes with being someone’s bride.
Because he found me beautiful.
The irony? Those are true of God.
It’s just really hard that He’s the only one.
It’s a lonely truth and a weary day of singleness. I know conceptually that I am beautiful to God. But today, in this fragile moment, I want to be be called beautiful by my man, known as “babe” to his friends, adored by his nephews and nieces for my giftedness in sidewalk chalk art, and cheered for the best spinach omelette he’s ever tasted.
So I’ll just wait here, in my best raggedy tee shirt. 🙂