This is my first spoken word, inspired by several young women who are very dear to my heart. Here is the text version for those who would like to read it as well:
She is beautiful. I wish she believed it.
She is beautiful, this broken girl on the street corner, and I tell her but she doesn’t hear me, doesn’t even try. She can’t understand truth in a world that only tells her lies.
Do they tell her she’s beautiful, those men who buy her body? Do they even pretend to see her?
Would she believe them if they tried?
She is more than a commodity, this sweet girl getting high in front of me. She is more than the drugs infiltrating her brain, more than the toxin that steals the expression from her face, more than the cuts and burns writing a storyline of abuse across her young skin. She is more than pleasure to be purchased, more than a victim of sin.
Every mark on her body is a testament of her past, but it’s the scars I see in her eyes that haunt me.
Here’s what she doesn’t understand, what she can’t see through her pain: she is a daughter of the God who reigns, the most beautiful being He’s ever created. I bet no one has ever told her that – but I’m telling her today. I’m telling her that she is beautiful. I’m telling her that she has a future. I’m telling her that there is a God who loves her, because she needs to know that when He looks at her he doesn’t see what people see – He only sees His daughter. He doesn’t see damage. He doesn’t see an object, and He doesn’t see sex. He doesn’t see addiction or failure or shame, never points His finger or lays the blame.
When the Father looks at her, He thinks This is My. Beautiful. Child. He doesn’t notice scars in her eyes – her soul is all He sees, pristine and unblemished like He intended it to be. Lord, if she believes one thing, let it be that.
She is important. I hope she can see it.
She is important, this lost child drifting in the wind. She’s been lost by a family that didn’t cherish their daughter. Instead of protecting her from harm they inflicted it on her. No more abuse, no more fear, no more pain if I don’t stay, maybe that’s what she thought when she ran away. But she fled into a world that has fallen into darkness, where every poor choice had a price she had to pay.
Lost, just a girl with only a pretty smile to pay her way. How can she find her way out, when every move takes her deeper? She’s been lost by everyone, even herself. Who is left to find her?
I wish she knew that there is one who never lost her when she plunged into the dark places. He never took His eyes from her when she despaired, never looked away when her innocence was stolen little by little, when she thought no one cared. Our God is a Father to the lost; He would delve into the darkest depths of the world to redeem His beloved child.
She’s starting to remember what she forgot, that there are people in this world who still love her and a God who never stopped. She starts to smile again, the lovely smile of one who is still innocent in her Father’s eyes.
She is worthy. I pray she remembers it.
She is worthy, this intelligent young lady looking for attention. She was born with a worth so integral she can never lose it. It’s impossible for anything to cheapen it, and she doesn’t have to do one single thing to earn it. You see, this kind of worth doesn’t come from the things she does or how she looks or the way others perceive her. God designed her worth. It is as much a part of her as her laughter.
Her worth has never shifted in His eyes. It never will.
I wish she would stop. Stop desperately seeking what she already has, as if worthiness can be bought. She shows off her body like it’s the best thing she has to offer but that is false. So false.
There is so much more to her than a pretty face and I just want her to see that one precious truth about herself, just want her to see it and believe it and remember it every day when she looks in the mirror. Maybe someone just needs to tell her that she can expect more, that she doesn’t have to be what the world is telling her to be, that she doesn’t have to become what she thinks men want to see.
The desire to be worth something is so intense, and the solution so simple. All she has to do is just BE. Just be the one God loves so dearly, just be how she was designed, just be Able to see that she is precious and unique.
There’s a hard truth that she’s starting to learn: this broken world should never tell her which way to turn. It gives her half-truths and fearful suspicions, and they warp her perceptions until she can’t recognize the voice of truth.
Shut out the whispers of the world, little sister, PLEASE. Let yourself hear the truth.
You are worthy– worthy of so much more than the approval you seek.
You are important, so important that the King of Kings knows your name and listens for your voice.
You are beautiful. No damage. No shame. Nothing beyond redemption. Just soul-deep beauty that transcends circumstance.
You are every woman. Every woman who has been abused, every woman who has been sold, every woman who has felt unloved or under-valued or overlooked.
You are beloved.
