She never saw herself as anything special, only a shadow of a girl that others seemed to walk right through. Everywhere she looked, she saw what she wanted to become—the girl huddled in the corner of the cafeteria where all the gods and goddess of the school gathered. She watched that girl and wondered what it would be like to be in her shoes, to walk the way she walked, and to look the way she looked.
"But don’t you know how precious you are in my sight?"
How she hated to hear that voice in moments like these…when she knew good and well that she was not precious at all!
So, she ran from the once familiar and warm voice. She’d had enough. If she was so perfect, why did He make her the way He had? Why did He give her this body? Why couldn’t He have given her violet colored eyes like she dreamed of and a voice that drew all the boy’s heads? Why, instead, did He make her body like a boy’s and give her a mop of mousy hair? That wasn’t precious! And it sure wasn’t beautiful!
She ran so far from that voice that eventually…she never heard it again. She stood still for a moment, not believing that she could ever run far enough. She strained her ears, turned in every direction, but knew in the space of a heartbeat that it was gone. “Good!” she shouted to the heavens. “Now I’ll make myself the way I always wanted to be!”
She never saw His tears fall as He looked upon all she did. She never stopped running, even though He no longer spoke. Instead, she now ran from one trend to the other—vainly trying to mold herself into the woman the world wished her to be. She dyed the long auburn locks that he had carefully chosen. She changed the shape of her body in such a way that she believed all eyes would be drawn to her. And they were, but the thoughts her body brought to the beholder, were dark with lust and nothing of love. She never knew…never understood…that the very thing she hated most, was the most beautiful of all.
She ran so far, from one man to another, trying so hard to seek his approval. At times, she thought she had found it. At times, she convinced herself that she was beautiful…and with each touch, each caress, she almost believed it. Yet, when the night came, she knew she’d lied to herself. She lay still and silent in her bed—tears washing her pillow.
"How precious you are in my sight…"
She sat up at the sound of his voice and opened her eyes wide. Had she heard Him again? After all these years—after all she had done? She’d run so far, turned her back and left Him behind. But before her stood the Man that she needed the most. He smiled at her…as if the was pure and beautiful. She knew better and held her head in shame.
"You don’t have run anymore." He said, her words piercing her heart. "Don’t you know, beloved, that I’ve been here all along."
She barely looked at Him. He was so beautiful. Why did she ever run away.
"I made you perfect in my sight. Nothing has ever changed."
When He touched her hand to her own, all the filth, all the darkness and evil she had let into her heart…melted away. She became a beautiful woman, something precious to behold. The beauty within her that all others would see, came from what that Man did in her heart that day. With one gentle touch, He took away her ugliness and replaced it with His beauty.