I Am Beautiful
I am beautiful.
I am beautiful because I am made in the image of God, Who loves me
with a love from which I cannot be separated.
I am beautiful inside and out, for He didn't just make my soul but my body, too.
All of me, body and soul, is a reflection of Him.
I am beautiful because my smile is wide and contagious,
because my hands are small and scarred, short and curvy,
and that reminds me that it is okay to accept those descriptors about myself
because I am scarred and short and curvy.
I am beautiful because I am "tongue-tied" and can still both roll and fold my tongue.
I am beautiful when I organized our entire Dr. Seuss collection on the stairs,
pretending to work in a library.
I am beautiful because the moles on my body remind me
of my mother and grandmother,
and I am proud to be connected with two amazing women.
I am beautiful because the roundness of my tummy reminds me that
one day my female organs will carry a newly-created life.
I am beautiful like laughter between friends on the beach in the middle of summer.
I am beautiful when I smile.
I am beautiful when I take Communion
and when I raise my hands in worship.
I am beautiful when I laugh and when I mourn,
when I pray for my sponsor child who is beautiful.
I am beautiful when I wear my black lacy dress and Samara's pearls.
I was beautiful even when I did not see it. Though I tried to vomit
and cried when I couldn't go through with it,
I was beautiful.
I am beautiful still.
I don't know whether my eyes are doves behind a veil,
or my hair is like a flock of doves descending from Gilead.
But in my own way, in my own Rebekah-way, I am beautiful.
Perhaps I am beautiful like a peacock's feather,
or like a pink and orange sunset reflected on the Pacific.
I am definitely not beautiful because I am perfect.
I am not perfect, inwardly or outwardly.
I have flaws enough.
But I am beautiful.
For I am loved by God,
and love is in my heart,
and where there is love,
there is beauty.