Wild


Her image, her wildness, and disarrayed clothes did not dim her light.

She shined brilliantly before the Lord, not seeing her through the eyes of judgment but eyes of tenderness.


She brought what she had, and in her heart, she knew that it was enough.


She was enough.

She is enough.


Shells in hand, she approached him, ignoring the laughter of her peers. Placing them gently in his hands, and as she let go, the ocean waters surrounded them.

They sang and swayed notes of gratitude to her for seeing the beauty within them.


And he blessed the shells rearranging them into a crown. With a firm softness, he crowned her as a beautiful, lovely, accepted part of divinity.


In her tattered clothes, she stood head held high.

With her burgundy lips parted and sang, I am enough because I am you dirty and disheveled. I am loved unconditionally by him. My father sees me for who I am.

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