I know what you’re thinking. Don’t quit your day job, honey. Winter won’t quit, my skin is so dry that it hurts in places. I did lunch with girlfriends the other day and it was a bit like a high school reunion for me, sadly. I forgot to remove my week-old nail polish before meeting them and for the entire date I sat there with my fingers curled like a monster to turn my nails away from their sight. I was so embarrassed because it screamed “I am not put together!” At least that’s what I was hearing.
It was a wonderful visit with good food, hearty laughs and great updates about our lives. On my way home I swung by the grocery store and the weirdest thing happened at the check-out.
“I love your nails.”
**steal a glance at right hand before curling it into monster claw again**
“REALLY?! They’re a bit beat up, but thanks.”
“Still, I really like them.”
How sweet God is to us, faithful in the little things. He knows what’s in our hearts, where the brokenness is. I still battle self-confidence issues often, even in my redemptive thirties, yet He brings to life the words that I won’t always let sink in. That I am more precious to Him than many sparrows, that He has numbered every disheveled hair on my head. So He sends His whispers through teenaged cashiers and cousins who tell me I smell so good at a time when I am so conscious of a perfumeless existence.
Bob Goff said yesterday, “Live your life like you’re exactly who Jesus thinks you are.”
What a concept.
For He satisfies the longing soul, and fills the hungry soul with goodness. (Psalms 107:9)