It was a quiet moment on Christmas day and one of the sweetest candid shots I snapped all day.
We had gathered around warm, gooey cinnamon rolls, feasted on the rich promising words of the Incarnation, unwrapped more than glittering presents, but His glorious presence in our lives, and pulled up our sleeves to prepare a banquet.
Now the turkey was sizzling, the smell whirling its way throughout the house, the light dinner rolls were waiting on the counter, and the golden apple pie dripping sweet juice was tempting me to make it the first course.
In the momentary hush, after the excitement of the morning and before my sister and her husband with their five boys, including twin five-month old babies, who had been without power for days due to an ice storm (Yes, I agree, they deserve more than a medal!!) would join us, I listened as my Mother-in-law shared a precious moment with one of her granddaughters.
I could hear the story of 'Audrey Bunny' unravel as she turned the pages and the bunny with a mark became real.
Because this is my story too.
It's not just the little girls who are afraid to show their marks, or fear that their marks may be seen after all their try-hard living to keep their imperfections from being seen.
From grandmothers to little girls, we all have marks that we are scared to reveal.
But in the right hands, we will come to see that no matter our mark, we are loved, and we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
"I am the LORD; I have called you in righteousness;
I will take you by the hand and keep you."
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