Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Hello, My Official Title Is...

Hey guys! I hope you all have been doing well!

So I want to talk about something important today.

Do you have an official title? I know this seems weird, but go with it.

Mr.? Mrs.? Miss.? Dr. maybe?

I've been called a lot of things in my life. Wife. Writer. Friend. Student. Youth leader. Jesus Freak. Leader. Christian. Assistant. Cheerful. Professional Coffee Guzzler.

I've been called a lot of strange things. Crazy scarf lady. Drill Sargent. Crazy youth leader. Coffee/Caffeine addict. Purple freak.

I've been called a lot of bad things in my life. Mean names. Average. Fat. Thunder Thighs. Grumpy. Sometimes people still dare to call me "cute." Ha!  ;)

But do all those things define me?

Are they me?

Well, I'm crazy for sure.


I adore scarves.


I would rather not talk about the number of donuts I have consumed of late. Don't judge. Dunkin Donuts brought back the brownie batter donuts for Valentines Day.

But what makes me, me?

Have you ever asked yourself that question? Do you sit there wondering what makes you so special?

Perhaps it's your love of dark chocolate.

Perhaps is your fear of the number thirteen.

Perhaps it's your love of all things vintage and antique.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's your pure, unwavering hatred of mushrooms.

None of the things people say about me, or any of my strange and many quirk's define me. And as much as I wish my title was something like, "McAwesomeness Galactic Renowned Writer, Wife, and Scholar," it's not. My official title is...

Daughter of the King.

So, with that in mind, I want to share a short story with you guys. God holds the day and time of the publication of my novels in His capable hands. However, I think it's time you guys see that I can really write.

So with much ado...

Meet Anna.

A young girl stood before the mirror. Piles of clothes covered her bedroom floor, bed, and desk.

It was her first day of eighth grade, and she was terrified.

Anna bit her lip, and kicked a sweater on the floor before falling onto her bed. She had literally tried on every single piece of clothing she owned at least seven times in every possible combination imaginable. Nothing worked. Nothing looked good. Nothing brought out her "womanly qualities." Nothing seemed as mature as the things the other girls in her class wore over the summer.

Because she was gross, ugly, and the freckles above her lip looked ridiculous.

"I hate you," she spoke to the girl in the mirror. She would give anything not to be labeled the "God Girl" again this year. Anna knew that sounded awful, and that wasn't how she meant it. She wanted to be cool, popular, and pretty. She wanted people to call her that.

Rolling away from the judgmental mirror, she spied her Bible sitting on the nightstand. She hadn't done her Bible reading yet today. "Great," she said as she reached for her Bible and flipped it open. "I'm living up to my reputation."

She had been reading in Psalms because her youth pastor told the youth group that Psalms had a lot of short chapters. Chapter 139, verse 13 through 16 caught her attention.

"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them."

"But I'm ugly and gross," she whisper-prayed to her Lord.

"You are mine." The Lord whispered back to her heart. "What else matters?"

She wanted to believe, but with everything the world said about beauty, her Heavenly Father's words didn't comfort her like normal. She wanted to fit in with the other girls. She wanted the boys to think she was beautiful. She wanted so much more.

"Everything," she whispered.

Anna didn't find closure in this story. Instead of listening to God's voice, she listened to the voice in her head who told her she wasn't good enough. I don't know a woman, young or old, who didn't experience a moment like that. A moment filled with self-loathing. A moment filled with doubt and hurt because of the things other people had spoken over you. A moment where you regretted the good qualities in your life because someone twisted it in such a way to make you feel awful.

Those things are heinous lies, and what do we do with heinous lies?

We put them in the trash were they belong.

"For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creations, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39

If none of that can separate you from God, why would your love of strawberry ice cream and your plus size hips separate you from God?

Why do we let all those things, truth or lie, control us?  Why do we let them drive a wedge between us and Jesus?

"So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him." 1 John 4:16

If you will hold onto the truth found in this verse, then you will realize the only thing you can call yourself is daughter/son/child of the King.

Out of all the things people say, that is the only thing that matters.

I hope you guys have a good week! Bless you, and I will see you on the 20th!  :)

V. Joy Palmer

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