I lay there in my bed, hands reflexively resting on my belly. The days of feeling little baby kicks are long gone, but some of the roundness remains. I thought of what my body was, what it is. And in that moment I did something radical.
I said thank you.
For this body that gets the job done, gets me where I need to go and keeps on going.
For this body that was home to three little babies, growing them strong and beautiful.
For this body with too many soft spots and stretch marks and scars.
It has taken me awhile to get here. And believe me, I’m not in this place every day. Most days the voices in my head scream silent telling me things I’ve always known and never imagined. The voices tell me all that I think I am and all that I will never be. Coaxing me to strive for more and mocking me when I fail to meet impossible standards.
Most days thank you is the furthest thing from my mind when I think about my body.
I could type words written long ago to remind us of who we are in Christ, but sometimes those words don’t penetrate all the layers I’ve put around my heart. Sometimes we are protecting ourselves from the very thing we need the most.
Sometimes we need to believe the unbelievable just because the Bible says so. Sometimes we need to be content in our imperfection because His perfection made us enough.
Come close and hear this good, friend. All of those imperfections we find in ourselves, all of those things we see about our bodies and hide under layers of clothes or layers of striving, all of it is seen by the greatest Artist that ever existed, and He looks at it all smiling and saying that we are enough.
In all of our imperfection.
Our too fat or too thin or too tall or too short.
Our scars and broken pieces and flat places and sagging.
Our try harder, do more or just give up.
He sees every bit of it and He still smiles.
If the God of the universe that knows beauty we cannot comprehend can smile when He sees us maybe we can dare to smile too.
And when the taunts come from places deep inside telling us who we think we really must be, we don’t have to listen to them friend. We can brush them off and say we are enough. Just as we are. Right in this moment with our imperfections and our brokenness and even our unbelief. We are enough.
Even in this season of becoming better versions of ourselves. Losing that weight and keeping that Bible reading habit. Cleaning out closets and cleaning out hearts. Getting up early and exercising more.
The kindest gift you can give yourself is grace. The grace to see your flaws and say those are not the things that define you. The grace to trace that scar with your fingertip and be awed by the amazing power of healing. The grace to see the whole of your being and still say thank you.
When imperfection meets grace is when we are the best version of ourselves.
So look close, friend. Look at every bit of who you are and pour grace with abandon because you are enough.
Becky believes in embracing grace in the messy real of life. At My Ink Dance, she captures hard, uncomfortable, often unspoken feelings and brings light, honesty and God’s truth to them in a relatable way. Becky is a wife and mother of three in Connecticut writing imperfect and finding faith along the way.