Humility or Lies?

Insulting the Creator

Constantly
I compare,
measure,
give worry and attention
to my imperfections.
Defined by whom?
Corrupt, lying, deceitful definitions.
They permeate the air.
Like someone smoking in a car.
I can’t escape.
I breathe it in.
With others,
I see beautiful eyes above that scar.
I see a servant’s heart beneath a plus sized dress.
I hear pain behind the attitudes.
But
With Me
The vision is skewed.
Faults magnified, on display, screaming
Stealing my thoughts, my energy
Added pounds, a pudgy nose, flabby arms
The wrong words spoken,
The race to belong,
Never measuring up.
But
With You
I am beautiful,
And my flaws make me true
I was “fearfully and wonderfully made”
You “knit me” in my mother’s womb.
And “it was good.”
You are the Artist.
The sculptor
The Master
Lord,
Mold me as your masterpiece
Shimmering glass Angel
A Base of solid steel
Chisel grace in a soft dust of Passion
Fashion Harmony, joy, Rhythm
But balance the canvas
With the monument You see
Compose an original.
Smear some black ink.
Stroke hard.
Breat at Will.
Weld a pure song.
And let this piece be bold!

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” Psalm 139: 13-14