Princess

She squints her eyes to focus on the image before her.
Peering into the clouded mirror, she was disgusted with what she saw.
She frantically dug into the bag of makeup and paints and, layer by layer, tried desperately to cover all of her flaws.
Minutes passed.
She continued to work.
Frustrated, she threw down the brush and scrubbed vigorously to correct her own mistakes.
Her face red and her skin raw, she picked up the brush again.
Minutes passed.
Hours passed.
She continued to pain herself.
Unsatisfied, desperate, and disgusted, she fell to her knees and sobbed.
A puddle of makeup began to gather at her knees, mixed with her salty tears.
Her body shook violently with sobs.
"Why can I not be beautiful enough?
Smart enough?
Talented enough?" she asked herself.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to rise from her knees.
She once again faced the mirror as a voice, still and small, whispered.
"You are fearfully and wonderfully made."
The clouded mirror began to clear.
She began to see herself as she really was.
A princess.
A daughter of the King.

My God is a God of Detail :)

High School Retreat-2011
Hour and a half of silence in the wooded mountains of North Carolina.

"Be still and know that I am God"-Psalm 46:10

I hear running water in a nearby brook.
In the silence all around me, my thoughts begin to dwindle.
All thoughts of school, stress, sickness, and weakness flow with the water down the brook, far away from me.
My intense desires for love and acceptance that have been plaguing my mind for a while suddenly seem unimportant.
And my heart begins to beat with the rhythm of the running water in the brook.

Chills run down my spine as I take in a deep breath of fresh mountain air.
Everything within me cries out in unison with the running water in the brook:
All that is is within me cries for You alone to be glorified, Emmanuel, God with us!
My heart sings a brand new song! My debt is paid, these chains are gone!
Emmanuel, God with us!

As my heart continues to sing, my attention is drawn to a dandelion, not four inches from my nose.
The detail is intense on the small flower.
Each blossom, stem, seed, and shadow...
Designed by the GOD ALMIGHTY. :)



And how much more does He love me?
How much more beautiful am I to Him?

The Inspiration for the Name of this Blog

This song, by Steven Curtis Chapman, continues to speak volumes to me. Please read the lyrics to this song with an open heart. : ]


Be My Magnificent Obsession


Lord, You know how much
I want to know so much
In the way of answers and explanations
I have cried and prayed
And still I seem to stay
In the middle of life’s complications
All this pursuing leaves me feeling like I’m chasing down the wind
But now it’s brought me back to You
And I can see again

This is everything I want
This is everything I need
I want this to be my one consuming passion
Everything my heart desires
Lord, I want it all to be for You, Jesus
Be my magnificent obsession

So capture my heart again
Take me to depths I’ve never been
Into the riches of Your grace and Your mercy
Return me to the cross
And let me be completely lost
In the wonder of the love
That You’ve shown me
Cut through these chains that tie me down to so many lesser things
Let all my dreams fall to the ground
Until this one remains

You are everything I want
You are everything I need
I want You to be my one consuming passion
Everything my heart desires
Lord, I want it all to be for You
I want it all to be for You

You are everything I want
And You are everything I need
Lord, You are all my heart desires
You are everything to me

Hands

Isn't it curious that through all of these times, a comfort has sustained my every desire? The presence of this comfort has calmed me through my every move.

My mind strives to understand what brings this comfort and strength, this weight that protects and assures me. And as I'm thinking, my eyes sweep the world around me and land focused on my folded hands in my lap. My mind changes gears and focuses on my hands.

The hands I have used to protect myself.
The fingers that have stroked the ivory keys on a piano.
The fingers that have plucked the strings on the guitar.
The fingers that grace the keys of my flute.
The hands that have dried the tears of those who are dear to me.
The fingers that were once entwined with those of an orphan.
The hands that raise high to praise their Creator.

And then my eyes fill with tears, and I realize what the weight that protects, assures, and comforts me is. It is another pair of hands.

The hands that reached down to pull me out of the pit.
The hands that served as a shield when I was ridiculed.
The hands that wipe all of my tears away.
The hands that pull me up onto His lap and hold me.
The hands that bring me comfort, security, and peace.
The hands that will hold mine forever and always.
The hands that will hold my heart for all of eternity.
The hands that are nail-scarred.

Those beautiful, nail-scarred hands.