Confidence has never been my strong suit.
I had a conversation with a friend a few years back where I shared the reality of my struggle with self-confidence.
I wish I could tell you that this open and vulnerable discussion with a trusted friend initiated a process of healing and that I am now overflowing in confidence. But that is not the case.
You see, even a couple of years after that conversation with my friend, the struggle is more real than ever before. When I look in the mirror and ask myself “mirror, mirror on the wall”…this is what I see:
— A woman who often feels like her age far surpasses her achievements and successes.
— A woman who often struggles with this mothering thing and her lack of a pinterest-y perfect
life for her beautiful family.
— A woman who regrets each time she fails and gives into the chaos of a moment and…yells in frustration at her husband or children.
— A woman who reacts to an offence in a way that is not loving and forgiving.
— A woman who did not finish university because of her fear of failure.
— A woman who is desperately disappointed with the way she looks and merits a few dozen extra pounds as a perfectly good reason to lose worth in the eyes of herself and others.
Despite how completely depleted of confidence I might feel on any given day, this truth remains: God made me who I am—every single detail—and it grieves God when I stand in front of the mirror berating the very person He created me to be.
Instead of, “mirror, mirror on the wall…,” I believe a better question to ask might be, “mirror, mirror, on my heart….” And, when asking myself this important question, I must be prepared to answer in the way that the mirror reflects the love of Jesus that pumps through my veins. It is ONLY because of God and His grace, mercy, and love that I am who I am. Without Him, my life would be but a vapour, enduring an eternity in Hell.
That perspective sort of brings you to your knees with overwhelming gratitude, does it not?
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvellously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I’d even lived one day.
All glory be to God. For His works are made well. Believe it, friend. God made me, and He made you—and we are both made in His image. We are marvellously made indeed.