How an Anomaly Can Be a Thing of Beauty: A Letter to My Daughter

Dear Addy,

Yesterday, we went to a vascular anomalies clinic for the birthmark on your shoulder.

In the hallway, while we were checking in, you began singing and twirling. “My name is Addy, and I am so beautiful. My name is Addy, and I am so beautiful.”

I was struck by the perfection of that moment. There we were in a clinic that is keeping an eye on this “anomaly,” and there you are singing about who you are.

My name is Addy.

Addy—Adelaide—which means noble princess. Daughter of the King.

And I am so beautiful.

And you. are. beautiful.

Addy, taking you into that clinic, watching the doctors and surgeons poke at you, measure your hemangioma, talk about all the options you could have one day, hurt my heart for you. I wanted to shoo the doctors away, remind you of how wonderful you are, that there is nothing wrong with you. You see, I worry one day you will take all the words that might be spoken to you and tuck them away in your sensitive heart. I worry those words will speak to you, define you, make you think you are less-than, or that you will think you need to cover up who you are and who you were made to be.

I worry because I think of the words that I tucked into my young heart, I think of how I felt unnoticed and ugly. I allowed it all to speak to me, to define me. In high school, the popular boys called me “rat girl.” And then, almost overnight, I filled out a C-cup and those same boys wanted to date me. I translated the new found attention to mean that my figure was the only thing that made me worth something. I thought that if I could just keep a schedule full of dates, the emptiness I felt would be filled. I thought it would make me worth something. I only felt dirty and used. And believe me, that does not make you feel valuable.

Even after Jesus came in and began to heal my heart, I still struggled to see my worth. Instead of looking for my worth in men, I tried proving it. I worked so hard in college to get straight A’s, I filled my calendar with meetings and events for good causes, and I led a thriving children’s ministry. And still, I looked and found there were people who were better than me, prettier than me, more together, more blessed. I discovered I was an insecure woman full of jealousy who constantly compared herself to other women.

Comparison, jealousy and insecurity are just symptoms of a sickness. The sickness: fear. Fear that you aren’t enough, that you aren’t really loved.

And while we seek to heal this fear in the approval of others, the only antidote to this fear-sickness is the perfect love of God. (1 John 4:18) Why? Because you were made for His delight. And if my momma-heart is any indication of God’s heart, daughter, you bring Him so much delight.

I think of this scripture:
“But we have this treasure [light] in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). 

Whoever heard of a clay pot shining from within? Only by God’s power. Daughter, we might want to think it’s the shiny, dressed-up glass vases that shine the brightest, but it’s the miracle of a clay pot shining that is marvelous to behold. It’s the girl that makes this crazy faith leap to believe that all she is, is all God wants. It’s the girl that chooses to give all glory to God… who allows Him to fill the empty places and bridge the short-comings. It’s the girl who knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is nothing that she can do to make God love her more, and there is nothing she can do to make God love her less. It is the girl that knows she is preapproved.

And when you were singing in the hallway of the doctor’s office, yes, I do believe you knew you were pre-approved. “My name is Addy, and I am so beautiful.”

I pray you keep singing. I pray this knowing is stamped on you that no matter where you go, you have God's approval. I pray you know that you are His child. I pray that you would rise in fearlessness and be exactly the woman God imagined you would be when He formed you in my womb.

I wish I could somehow show you exactly what I see in you, Addy. The sensitivity, the beauty, the sense of wonder and delight, the way you live in timelessness, the way you dance and sing. The way you encourage and prod onward, the way you are a noticer. You live slowly and drink deeply. You know how to block out everything around you for whatever or whoever is right in front of you.

Addy, I want you to hear this: Do you know why I think that mark is beautiful? Because at some point, Addy, you are going to have to trust that you are beautiful in spite… that God loves you no matter what. You are going to have to let God fill that space in you… and what could possibly be more beautiful than you, Addy, full of the light of God?

Your name is Addy, and you are so beautiful.

I love to the moon and back, with all my heart, no matter what.

Momma

I was inspired to write this letter by Jennifer Dukes Lee (one of my absolute favorite bloggers to read) and the new book she has coming out April 1^st. I am really looking forward to this book all about approval-seeking and love idols. It’s certainly a struggle I know well.  

And, yep, sharing this in the #TellHisStory community at Jennifer's place.