Her body trembled as she pressed against me. I could feel the weakness and uncertainty she felt seep from her skin into my body as I absorbed the waves of emotion. She was hurting because of the cruel words of another. The icy dread and anger crept quietly into my Soul although I spoke softly and comforted her with my words.
This gentle, fragile girl I cradled was my daughter. A part of my very soul. The soft essence of her was an extension of myself. The cry of her heart matched the tones of my own in perfect harmony.
She wept. Tears slowly drifting down her pale cheeks while my own turned inward and coursed steadily through the corridors of my spirit.
If only I could reach into her soul and grind out the etchings that had engraved themselves in her mind. The ones that whispered and taunted, “You are not enough.” If I could retrieve the pages stored in the blueprint of her spirit, I would rewrite them to reassure her that she had value beyond this person.
Her maternal grandmother and great-grandmother before her cry out from their graves.
In life, they too had born the lifelong scars she was slowly marking on her own heart with every acceptance of abuse and rejection. Her maternal grandmother…suffering shame, never feeling beautiful and valued because his fists had taken teeth so that she refused to smile and left marks on her skin that would never be eradicated. Broken both inside and out, her worth in her own eyes faded as a slowly-dying ember of a once-vibrant fire. Eyes are the windows to the soul. In her eyes, the soul reflected pools of sorrow because she believed–as her mother had before her, after suffering at the hands of a man–that she deserved no better. Her worth was calculated by the small morsels he threw at her like a dog cowering in a corner.
If I could call back the voices of her grandmothers to harmonize with mine, the message would reverberate through the caverns of eternity…
Daughter, you are the very essence of God’s beauty. A jewel of His perfect design. There is no one but the God who formed every womanly curve and set every molded bone of your body that can hang a price tag of value and worth on you. None. Not one.
Your God has clothed you with honor and strength as a woman of great value. No mortal man can strip that title from you. You alone hold the power to remove its protection over you and willingly lay it at the feet of another to judge you by their standards.
You are elegant and lovely. God has crowned you with majesty as a woman of precious value. He has made you free to spread your wings. Lift up your head. Turn your eyes and look into the face of God. In His eyes, you will see what He sees…
“You are enough…more than enough.”
*Note: This was written to my daughter a few years back. She has given me permission to share it that it might help other young women.
Related post: “Dear Mother of a Teenage Daughter”
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