It was 1997 and I sat in my favorite class, music. Across the room sat the boy I was mad crushing on and around him were all the other 3rd grade girls, busy seeking after his attention. He glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back, blushing I’m sure. I was honored that I had grabbed his attention for that moment. He shared whispers with the girls around him and I watched as they all snickered. All of a sudden my feelings of excitement turned dark and I felt my stomach churn as this boy shouted “Look at Lindsay’s stomach, she’s pregnant!”
Ever since that 3rd grade moment of insecurity I have stuffed other moments into my treasure chest of unworthiness and spoke over myself that beautiful is something I would never attain.
It’s 2016 and I’m in the beautiful country of Swaziland. I finally feel like I’m on the race because I’m sleeping in a tent and have a bucket shower every 4 days due to the drought. Working out is a struggle because I’m either exhausted from the day or sore from sleeping on my 2” sleeping pad on the concrete floor. All but one of my comforts have been stripped from me. I can’t sit on the couch and talk to my mom about the day while she gives me grace and encouragement. I can’t hug my dad and listen to him tell me how beautiful I am. I can’t escape to my favorite park to go hammocking and reflect on life, just Jesus and me. I can’t put on my hiking boots and go on a solo hike. I can’t call up a friend and go to our favorite coffee shop. I can’t text my guy friends to seek out all the affirmation they have to shell out.
But I can go to the store 10 minutes down the road and buy Oreos to give me comfort
Here in Swaziland I check the menu: “Monday: Spaghetti; Tuesday: chicken and rice…” All I see is “carbs.” I do pushups, squats and crunches every night in hopes that my jeans will still fit. When I get out of the “shower” I’m immediately covered in dirt. My face is breaking out. My closet consists of 3 outfits to choose from. The last time I felt this ugly and undesirable was 1997.
9/22/2016 Speaker: Squad Leader, Andrew
“Today we’re going to talk about lies we believe and speak over ourselves and how they affect us. But first I want you to take about 10 minutes and sit in silence with God and ask Him “God, what do you think of me?’”
I grab my journal and pen and write down the question and sit and wait.
“You’re my beautiful daughter.”
After about ten minutes, Andrew continued to teach us about lies that we believe, how we can detect them and how we can allow God’s truth to be spoken over them in order to live in freedom.
It was in this moment I discovered that I have allowed a 3rd grade boy to determine my worth for 19 years.
Lies matter because we act upon what we believe in. If we believe in the truth, we are set free. But if we believe in the lies, we’re enslaved.
“Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, a pot among earthen pots. Does the clay say to the Potter, “what are you making?” Does your work say “The Potter has no hands?” Woe to the one who says to a father “What have you begotten?” or to a mother “What have you brought to birth?” This is what the Lord says- the Holy one of Israel, and it’s Maker: concerning things to come, do you question me about my children, or give me orders about the work of my hands? It is I who made the earth and created mankind on it. My own hands stretched out the heavens; I commanded all their host.”
Isaiah 45:9-12
It took 19 years for me to sit in silence long enough to allow God to reveal to me the root of my unworthiness. I’ve lived 19 years in fear of being ugly and now all I hear God saying is “That’s impossible.”
I wake up to mountains every morning, something He knows I love. I see the Milky Way as clear as it’s ever been before bed each night. He speaks over me “As beautiful as they are, you are always more beautiful.”
I’m here in Africa and I’ve never felt more ugly. But I wake up every morning to talk to Daddy God just to hear Him say “you’re my beautiful daughter.” I’m walking through the struggle of speaking that over myself but I’ll beat that drum till it dies because I refuse to leave Africa believing anything different.
I am His beautiful daughter.
