What the Growth Chart Cannot See

I feel the ruler pat my head.

"Get off your tiptoes!" my mama said.

"Am I taller than Daddy yet?"

Excitement builds, I'll never forget.

"Maybe one day," she says with glee.

Four foot something in 2003.

"You passed me up," my mama cries

Six years later, how time flies

Years and inches intertwine.

Measurements dance on the wall's design.

Mightier than the sword the pen must be

As teenage wonder replaces childhood naivety.

I topped out in 2014.

Five foot nine, easily seen.

"Dad's still taller," I say matter of fact.

I touch the wall where Mama keeps track.

"You've grown up, Chickadee."

And I start to ponder what the growth chart cannot see.

Such great heights come with such great lows.

When it started, I don't know.

The anxiety, the sleepless nights,

The constant pressure of being right

A perfectionist's pressure, my identity.

Oh how things were simpler in 2003.

Growing taller is one thing, growing stronger another

Seeking counsel, fighting for peace, learning from my mother.

"Remember who God says you are. Don't believe the lies.

You are forgiven, loved, and treasured more than you realize."

Embracing my true identity, shining Christ through me.

A spiritual transformation is what the growth chart cannot see.