My dad traveled his whole career as a salesman. At first he was gone Monday-Friday, but as his marriage disintegrated, he was eventually gone Sunday-Saturday, returning only for fresh clothes. My mother was the strongest, most focused person I’ve ever known. No matter how daunting it must have seemed, she just did what needed to be done to raise her children on her own. We were her whole world and we knew it. 

But still, that little girl craved what every child craves - love and attention from her father, knowing deep inside she was not only good enough but adored for simply being herself. That craving stayed with me into adulthood. As I’ve grown in my faith, and simply experienced more of life, I’ve come to understand that I do have gifts, I am worth knowing, and I can make plenty of noise when I want to.  🙂

The stories I write have one major underlying theme that is born out of my childhood desire to be loved and affirmed: Our identity is found first and foremost in the God who created us, saved us from ourselves, and adores us. Regardless of who our earthly parents are, our DNA starts with God. When we understand that (or attempt to, with our limited human understanding), we know that He loves us and accepts us for who we are - sin and all. He wants what’s best for us, and provides everything we need (although not everything we want - thank goodness!) before we even ask.

When we accept this truth into our being, we can look in the mirror and, instead of seeing someone who is deficient (according to society’s standards), see a daughter of the King. Someone worthy of love and acceptance. And someone worth dying for. Scripture reminds us that Christ died for us while we were still sinners. So regardless of how short we think we fall, how little we measure up, or how worthless we’ve been told we are, we are already heirs with Christ, a daughter of the Most High, perfect just as we are.

I am His beloved. So are you.