I traced the outline of her nose today. I feel like I hadn’t noticed her features in a while.
Isn’t it funny how the same features I KNOW she got from me—they seem so beautiful on her, but not on me?
Lord, show me how to raise these girls to love what they see in the mirror.
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Her nose, her jawline, her long curly hair—they all resemble me. I think she is gorgeous and stunning, and part of me is terrified of ruining her with my own insecurities and hang-ups.
Right now, she’s five years old, and she doesn’t know what it’s like to look in the mirror and feel shame. But living in a society like ours will soon teach her to do so.
A few months ago, I heard her crying to her daddy, disappointed that her hair didn’t look like Elsa’s, the aspiration of girls around the world. Gosh, it tugged at my heart-strings. I mean, I remember. I remember my whole life wishing I looked like someone else. Wishing my hair was a different color, a different texture. Tugging at clothes designed for a differently shaped body—reminding me I was different.
And after years of living in a society that casts an unrealistic and unattainable vision of beauty, how do I teach my little girls to love themselves?
How do I teach my little girls to love themselves in an unforgiving world?
How do I teach my little girls to accept themselves and others?
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How do I teach my little girls to love what they see in the mirror when I cringe at my own reflection?
How do I teach my little girls modesty in a society that celebrates the opposite?
How do I teach my little girls to become confident women who are secure and assured of who they are?
Lord knows I need His help to raise these daughters of mine.
I traced the outline of her nose today. I studied her little features and desperately tried to record them to memory before they disappear. Her wispy little baby hairs—they’ll soon be gone. Her tiny fingers that curl around mine—they’ll soon give way to strong hands that will pave their own way.
Lord, show me how to fill my little girls with so much love they’ll go out into the world, brimming with confidence and assurance of who they are.
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Lord, Your Word says my little girls are made in your image. That You knit them together while they were in my womb. That they are fearfully and wonderfully made. Lord, I know that is true. Help me see that is true of me, too.
Lord, show me how to raise these girls to love what they see in the mirror.
Starting with me.