Feeling pressure before the gaze of man is a clue that rejection wounds are humming undercover and need to be gathered at the cross for healing.
Mothers are a powerful witness to their daughters. By example, women can either reinforce or uproot the lies that the enemy sows into girls' hearts, through what culture celebrates.
She watches her mama. Learns from her.
Her heart asks, am I beautiful? Am I enough to be loved, just as I am?
Our creator, so sweetly, takes off the heavy yoke of striving for worldly approval and fleshly admiration and sets us free. Remaining in his love is deliverance.
I wrote this poem, as a daughter, to all daughters, from the perspective of the loving Father, who answers her.
Your heart, dear love
is for my throne
But, pride has told you
that you are your own
Lustful eyes bid truth to depart
Insecure lies and conformity starts
Mutilating attempts to repair and conceal
The things that I gave you, of me, to reveal
Broken hearts
buy false parts
and, to sin, sow
Dear child of mine,
why have you changed
my clothes?
You lay under the knife
and ditch the sword of my Word
Is it a wonder my love
in your heart is not heard?
I made you in my image
– one worth celebrating
Dissatisfaction is not only
self, but God-hating
My daughter, I love you
but your body's a gate
for falsehood or beauty
the holy or profane
My Son crucified
the world’s vain appraisal
that disturbs my peace
with a holy upheaval!
You have painted a shell
that has kept me out
Make me your refuge
and I’ll put to death, doubt!
You're beautiful, seen
You're loved and you're known
Adorn yourself with truth
No more mask, no more show
Leave my artwork to me
Let age shine as a crown
Receive the light of my beauty
Put vanity down
