Sometimes I despise what I look like.

My big nose, the closeness of my eyes,

And my uneven complexion.

I try to hide my past, yet it's evident on my arms.

The scars are not just physical, but mental as well.

 

I look in the mirror and scowl,

But then I remember who really made me who I am.

I've been made in the image of God.

Who made me beautiful and perfect,

Though I often may not feel that way.

 

Sometimes I may feel broken and incomplete,

But then I dig through Scripture and find my purpose.

God made me to spread His Word, not to worship my body.

 

It is because of God that I am alive today,

And for that I could never repay.

The Lord calls me beautiful in His sight,

And to me, His opinion is the only opinion that matters.

 

God tells me in His Word,

“Sweetheart, you've been forgiven, go in peace.”

I cry as I read those words,

Knowing some of the countless deeds I've done have hurt countless lives.

 

My true self is not in the deeds I've done to improve my life,

But in the one deed that God did to change my life.

He died for me so that I could have eternal life.

He made me into the woman He wanted me to be, transforming me.

 

In the end, my beauty isn't determined by the amount of Tweets or Likes I get,

But by the unending love and grace that my Father in Heaven has given me.