Seeing you.

Dear Friend,

Enclosed is a vacation photo from a few years ago. You're welcome. Some things you can never unsee. This remains a picture of one of the best days I ever spent with my sons. I know. What's glaringly obvious is that I am not a Dry Fit Adult Sleeveless Medium. One of us in that picture is. It is not me. I keep this picture on my phone always near me. And every time I see it, I'm tempted to delete it. Because it's not the preferred picture of me. Let that sink in. I'm in a rush to get rid of a beautiful reality, all because I want to cover up an unflattering image.

Of course, the irony is, hitting delete won't cause me to drop 75 pounds. It just causes me to remove an image I don't prefer, and allows me to focus on an image I do prefer, probably my face super imposed on the cover of a Men's Health Magazine. So maybe, just maybe, we have something in common. No. I don't have ovaries, although I like to think my emotional ovaries are on par with almost anyone. I am not a gifted daughter of the King and I am not a beautiful wife and I am not a busy and invested and incredible mom. And no, past the crock pot, I can't cook much.

But have you heard the phrase it takes one to know one? Probably has come up a time or two. I find myself instantly recognizing a lot of people quite easily. Liars. Cheaters. Thieves. Arrogant Jerks. The list goes on. You, my friend, are none of those things. But what might I know about you that I surely know about me. Stop me if this isn't your story. I often find myself apologizing to someone because I'm concerned that I didn't live up to what I believe should be their preferred picture of me. You know the word you've never heard me use in my conversations with you? Strange it still rages in my own head from time to time. Or I struggle because I didn't live up to my preferred picture me me. If they still sold ringtones, mine could easily open with, I'm so sorry."

Can we make a deal you and I? Can I promise, and you some day perhaps even trust, that when it comes to you and I, Grace, and more Grace. I don't love my preferred picture of you. I don't love your preferred picture of you. I love you. Muddy. Messy. Less than perfect. If apologies are necessary for you, then Grace in that as well, feel free to apologize. But know they are never necessary as if they somehow correct or change or re-right a wrong. Because, and again you may not believe this for a long long time, but there never be anything in my eyes for which you need to apologize. Because you, a beautiful daughter of the King, one whom I'm privileged to call a sister in Christ, a wife of noble character, not in the way that it's her to do list or her striving, but thoroughly genuine (and please remember before an "if he only knew" voice pops up in your head, my gift is eyes, so don't let that voice stay for dinner.) and also you're the wife of a man who was Grace to me when I had no idea how much I needed it on my Journey. So for all those reasons, friend, you are treasured and loved and cannot screw it up in my eyes. No judgment. You can think "what a hot muddy mess" all you want. I'll just think, Wow. Beautiful. You know. Like the drawings you put up on your refrigerator.

Every time you come up against the unflattering portrait of you it's a conscious choice. You can look at the picture at you and see it any way you want. You know. Like a 2X or a 3X stuffed in a medium. And be tempted to try to hit delete, and see if that changes anything. Or you can choose to see the picture of you through the privileged eyes of Grace, as a beautiful work of art in the hands of the Master.

Thus spake,

me