This morning I looked in the mirror and thanked God. Can you blame me? I have repeated this ritual for years. Oh, the custom may vary in sequence. I sometimes pluck my nose hairs before I do the ears, or elect to harvest them another day. I might floss before I brush, or maybe let it all go in favor of wearing a golden smile. After all, what can I do to improve anything?
“Lord, thank you that you love me as I am, warts and all.” I always say.
Let’s face it. I’ve not won any beauty contests in..., well never. I have what you call the perfect face for radio. I suppose the same could be true of a writer. Yes, that’s it. I have the perfect face for a writer. All I need is one or two photos for book covers anyway. They can do amazing things with Photoshop these days. Hey, why diet? A good digital artist can make the pounds melt away. I’ve never felt tall enough... No problem, they can stretch me.
God loves me the way I am. Mom loves me no matter what I do. Darla loves me, the kids love me and even the dog adores me. I am loved. With all my warts, frumpy backside, wild nose hairs and golden smile. I am loved. My cup is full. Life is good.
Unfortunately, this was not true for my friend Marc. Nope, no loving hand ever held him as a boy. He never heard the words “I love you son”. You see Marc was a “slave child” in Haiti. He never knew love or kindness as a lad. He slept under the kitchen table, where all slave children must sleep. He was not even given clothes to wear.
Here is my announcement. I have been asked to write Marc’s story, and that of the Ministry of Haiti Arise. I began the interviews on Tuesday. I will share more on Monday. You will be blown away. We serve a mighty God!
David
“Lord, thank you that you love me as I am, warts and all.” I always say.
Let’s face it. I’ve not won any beauty contests in..., well never. I have what you call the perfect face for radio. I suppose the same could be true of a writer. Yes, that’s it. I have the perfect face for a writer. All I need is one or two photos for book covers anyway. They can do amazing things with Photoshop these days. Hey, why diet? A good digital artist can make the pounds melt away. I’ve never felt tall enough... No problem, they can stretch me.
God loves me the way I am. Mom loves me no matter what I do. Darla loves me, the kids love me and even the dog adores me. I am loved. With all my warts, frumpy backside, wild nose hairs and golden smile. I am loved. My cup is full. Life is good.
Unfortunately, this was not true for my friend Marc. Nope, no loving hand ever held him as a boy. He never heard the words “I love you son”. You see Marc was a “slave child” in Haiti. He never knew love or kindness as a lad. He slept under the kitchen table, where all slave children must sleep. He was not even given clothes to wear.
Here is my announcement. I have been asked to write Marc’s story, and that of the Ministry of Haiti Arise. I began the interviews on Tuesday. I will share more on Monday. You will be blown away. We serve a mighty God!
David
