Me.

I have squinty eyes.  And a crooked chin...that's also quite doubled.  I have pouty lips and crooked teeth.  My hair is very gray...well, not today, because it's dyed, but trust me, it is.  My fingers are stubby.  I have an age spot right on my face!  I have really white skin.  And, I don't tan that well.  I have that protruding belly that tends to pull at shirts and spill over my slacks.  And, I hear that I have no butt....though, really, I don't really notice seeing as how I never see my butt.  Although, I try to glance back there when buying jeans.....don't want saggy butt jeans.  My baby toes are all funky shaped.  My fingernails grow fast...but are constantly getting broken by my furniture moving, painting, cleaning with bleach, gardening habits.  My veins are starting to show on my hands.  Oh, and my legs.  My boobs, well, they used to look straight in the eye, but now they tend to stare at the floor.  My knuckles are getting bigger.  As is my nose?  My earlobes are attached....I always hated that.  My eyesight is changing and I have to take off my glasses to read.  Soon, I'll be needing bifocals.  And for all of these things, I am finally learning to be comfortable within my own body.  To know that the things that I notice and that bother me most are really not WHO I am.  They are simply the uniqueness that God gave me before signing me as his artwork.  He didn't use a mold.  He didn't use a pattern.  He made ME.  And YOU.  And all of the little "imperfections" are imperfect according to whom?  According to what manual?  Is there some guidelines of artworks?  Of poetry?  Because that's what God says we are....His workmanship, poetry, art pieces......and an artist has an artists eye for beauty.  A poet, a way of intertwining the words perfectly in each poem.  And, God.the creator of all of the spectacular beauty that I see every day, never made two art pieces identical.  Not two trees.  Nor flowers.  Nor mountains.  Nor beaches.  And yet, I don't pick apart why one aspen tree is prettier than another.  Nor one blade of grass than another.  How is it that I look for those things within myself?  I think that I won't.  I will learn to glory in the uniqueness of me.  It will take time.  But I am determined to love who He made me and HOW He made me.
grace to you.