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Writer's pictureLaura Kae

Because He first loved me.

I had a really good day, but I am really sad right now and I do not know why. Before I get started on today, let me share an event from last night. I came home from work. The day was pleasant, but I was physically and emotionally exhausted. Historically when this is the case, I always want to be alone. I walk up to my apartment hoping I will be home alone and can go to bed without companionship.

Last night was different. I walked into my apartment, and it was empty. Without thinking about it, I announced to the empty space, “Hey, (name), you were supposed to be home. I wanted to talk to you. I like you.” Then I heard what I had said and leaned against the wall to steady myself. I have been praying for a change of heart in this area for a long time. I am so glad I have left someone so far into my heart that I want to see them even when I am tired!

Over the last few months, I have begun to pray, “Father, make me beautiful today. Help me feel beautiful today.” And I have begun to feel more beautiful.

I prayed a lot about my relationship with my body today. I do not even remember what brought my focus here. Yes, I do. I was having remnants of that tough feeling I wrote about a few weeks ago. I began to cry out to God that He would break every chain that bound me to the person who had wounded me so badly.

I arrived at work and my babies were sleeping. I looked in the mirror and I saw someone who looked so different than the person watching her felt. The person in the mirror was beautiful. Her face looked kind and loving, almost gentle really. When she smiled or laughed, she became even prettier.

But the woman watching her, did not feel that way. Without the help of a mirror, she would describe herself as tired, old, harsh and masculine. And her hands, for some reason today, she hated her hands. She had, perhaps, always hated her hands. She looked down at them. There was nothing wrong with them, per se. They were lean and long, characteristic of the genetic disorder of their owner. Years of labor on the farm had hardened them. Even the back of the hand looked twenty years older than the face in the mirror. The farm was not necessarily a bad memory, but the sight of her hands reminded her how little she had cared for herself over the last three decades.

“Dad, heal my hands,” she prayed. “Heal my relationship with them. Father, heal my body. Heal my relationship with it. Help me feel like a beautiful woman today. Like the woman in the mirror. Heal my relationship with the woman in the mirror.”

And He is. I feel more like the beautiful woman in the mirror tonight than the person I did this morning. He is changing me. Someday every ounce of pain on this journey of recovery will be worth it. It already is. Because He first loved me.

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory. – Isaiah 61:3

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