The Way You See Me

Awhile ago I had a conversation with God about body image and the struggles behind it. This is the recorded conversation (literally)....

The body…
What is it and what does it represent?
I’m told it’s a temple… and that makes sense because the Spirit of God dwells in me.
Yet what does that tell me when I look in the mirror? I know that it is not the Holy Spirit that catches my eye in that shiny glass. Shape, color, matter, flesh, hair, eyes, features… that is what I see.

Not I.

What? What do you mean ‘Not I?’

I mean I see your heart.

But my figure, Lord… what of that?

“For man looks at outer appearance, but God looks at the heart.”

Good one God… I’ve heard that before.

You don’t believe me?

I don’t understand it. The words are trite and bland and overused.

“My ways are not your ways, my thoughts are not your thoughts.”

Then why does it matter to me so much?

You weren’t created for this world.

Oh.

I’m sorry for your heartache. I grieve when you scrutinize your body. Don’t you understand that I made you? I don’t make mistakes. You’re perfect.

Perfect? God I don’t mean to be cynical here but you’re gonna have to tell me things that I haven’t already learned in junior high.

Perfect.

God I want to believe you but I just keep returning to the same place. I truly feel like I will never be set free from this stupid mentality.

I died to set you free from this. Don’t you know that I hate to see my children suffer, to be immersed in sin and believing a lie? Because that’s what you do every time you look in the mirror and cringe, when you look at your thighs and sigh, when you pinch your arm fat and instantly devalue your self worth. This stronghold, this lie about yourself, the one you have chosen to believe… takes away all worth from the loveliness I created. Not only that, but because of Christ’s blood that has redeemed you and made you perfect and holy takes second nature to your own perception. Whose idea of you matters the most? Yours, a boy’s, or mine?

Yours, God.

Who’s truth are you going to believe? Mine or this world’s?

I would like to say yours, God… but it’s not happening.

Then let me show you the way I see you – let my eyes be your eyes.

Not ready to surrender yet Lord. I’m having a hard time believing this can and will actually be accomplished.

Who do you say that I am?

-silence-

You need to trust me, daughter. I can encourage you and tell you that you’re stunning, gorgeous, hot, beautiful, etc… but I don’t want that to be the only way you see yourself. It doesn’t define you. I want you to see what I see, and what I see is what matters.

What do you see then, God?

A holy, perfect, blameless child of mine. I see a heart that beats for me and loves me with a passion that only lovers know. I see a daughter who’s heart has been broken and bruised by the lies of this world and I want to heal you.

God I’m crying out for you to heal me… to respond and release me from this unending burden! King of my heart, I plead for your hand to mold my heart in such a way that your perception of me is the truth I cling to every day.

Daughter, child, beloved… I love you with a love so intense that I died so that you might be freed from this burden. Do you believe that?

Abba… help my unbelief for it is your hand that I have grown to trust and it is your name in which I put my hope.

None on this earth can claim you. My hand is upon you and my Spirit rests in you. Trust me. I’ve healed you. Go. Pick up your mat and walk. Walk with me and be refined in my love.