lessons of God's love in dry skin and bad nails

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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)