Tonight, as we sat around the living room, little Henry was chewing on a teether. Willie was, in his normal fashion, standing on his head on the couch, making animal sounds. The girls were all cuddled together under a blanket while Chad asked the question:
“What are you guys thankful for today?”
It’s a simple part of our family devotions, but one all the kids look forward to. One by one, little hands shot into the air, hoping to be called on first!
Someone was thankful for the family walks we took.
Someone was thankful that God made them creative.
Someone was thankful for our home.
Someone was thankful for family.
As each child shared, I noticed Holland, our six-year-old, practically bouncing out of her seat. Her hand was stretched as high as she could possibly reach, and she was just waiting for Chad to call on her. As soon as he did, without hesitation, she blurted out:
“I’m thankful that God made us PERFECTLY!”
The room got quiet for a second. It was such a simple statement, yet so profound coming from such a little girl.
God made us perfectly.
Immediately, my mind went to different verses. He “knit me together in my mother’s womb.” We are created in His image.
I know it is true, but when I’m honest, I’ve stood in front of a mirror and noticed the things I wish were different. The things I “don’t like” about myself.
And these days, it feels harder than ever not to.
We’re surrounded by filtered faces, edited photos, unrealistic standards, and images that aren’t even real anymore. Everywhere we look, we’re quietly being told we need to be thinner, younger, smoother, prettier, stronger, or somehow more than what God already made us to be.
Ironically, as I sit here writing this, I am not exactly feeling like the picture of perfection.
I have a pimple patch on my face.
An oil hair mask is soaking into my hair.
And enough stains on my thrifted dress—from cooking dinner and Henry’s spit-up—that I probably shouldn’t answer the door if someone knocks.
But the more I thought about Holland’s words, the more I realized something. Those stains? They’re evidence of a day spent caring for people I love. They’re reminders of answered prayers. For years, I prayed for these babies. I prayed for this family. I prayed for the opportunity to be a wife and mother. The hair mask? That’s a small gift. Not everyone has the time or ability to care for themselves in little ways like that. And the pimple patch? Honestly, I’m just thankful someone invented those things.
It’s also a reminder of how far my skin has come after years of struggling with it. Suddenly, all the things I was tempted to see as flaws looked a little different. They looked like blessings.
This is life. Not the filtered version. Not the curated version. The real version. The beautiful version.
The version with tired eyes, stained clothes, laugh lines, messy kitchens, and little boys standing upside down on couches. The version filled with gifts we often overlook because we’re too busy comparing ourselves to someone else.
God made us perfectly.
Not because we never age.
Not because we never have imperfections.
But because He made us with purpose, intention, and love.
So the next time I find myself standing in front of a mirror, focusing on everything I wish were different, I hope I remember the excitement in Holland’s voice as she bounced up and down and declared a truth many of us need to hear again:
“I’m thankful that God made us perfectly.”
“I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” — Psalm 139:14 (KJV)
Be Encouraged, Erin
