We are constantly trying to find ourselves
Look for
pieces of who we are in other people
Find
reflections in broken mirrors hoping they will give us whole
perceptions
Trace back
through our pasts and see if we left ourselves there
We are
constantly trying to find ourselves
In places
we never were to begin with
In the
names we’ve been called the busyness we drown ourselves in
Our
identity is not given to us by people
Who are
still searching for who they are
Our
identity is not found in a world that attempts to shatter any
foundation
of truly
knowing ourselves
Our
identity, inherited by a grace ordained to us
by the one
who molded each of our frames in his hands
Our
identity is not solely in what we do
Or what we
say, it is engrained in who we are
And who we
are becoming
And who we
are is His
An
Identity instilled upon us before this world could touch us
Who we are
is worthy, precious, valued, and loved unconditionally
Orchestrated
with a certain grace that lingers in your namesake
You are so
much more than this world will tell you
We are
constantly trying to find ourselves in all the wrong places
Find our
identity in hands that did not create us
Aimlessly
searching to find ourselves
while He
stands in the center of our whirlwind journey
with a
frame held up to his face and waits
just
waits
Until we
stop,
See His
reflection
and notice
our own painted there too
Your name is daughter, wonderful, adored, necessary and purposed
This place
will try to tell you, everything you are not
it is your
job to be all of that and more
and who
you are dear one,
is
His
unmistakably
His
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