
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
