Perfection makes impossible demands

Leaving you parched

Thirsting for drops of validation

Begging to be understood

To be seen

To be heard

But, dear one, do you know how lovingly you were formed?

Every hair numbered

Your life purposed

Your very existence a reflection of God’s glory

You are the apple of His eye

In His image created

Fully Known. Deeply Loved.

—L.A.S