I hate labels!

 While the words below were written years ago, this memory still packs a punch! I was reminded of it earlier this week and so I thought I would share it with you all.

A tingle of dread worked its way through my stomach as I realized I had a new label, but unlike all the other labels I had faced in the past, this one I couldn’t deny. This one wasn’t based on someone’s personal opinion of what beauty is, nor did it come from my own low self-esteem. This one was a fact; a perfectly fitting description of who I am and I was left wondering how one word could hold the power to make me feel so old, far older than my 31 years. 

How was it possible that this new label I was branded with could fill me with searing pain while leaving me almost numb?

With heaviness so great I could barely move, I made my way to the mirror to see if I looked as old as I felt. When I caught my reflection, my heart fluttered in surprise. There, looking back at me wasn’t a worn, tired woman like I had expected; instead, I saw a vulnerable little girl. 

In that moment, the word widow seemed terribly out of place and I tried to deny and refuse my new label, but it didn’t work. The cold, hard truth was still the same, my husband was gone and there was nothing I could do about it.

Staring at myself, I saw the pain etched all over my face. Sorrow could be seen in my eyes that were red rimmed from the tears that decided to fall unstoppable at the most inconvenient times. With a sigh, I turned to walk away, and just as I moved I felt a stirring in my heart. With curiosity, I turned back and looked at my reflection once again. And that’s when I knew God was speaking. I felt His words more than I heard them, and I marveled as the message, “My child, I see you,” gently wrapped around my broken heart.

God saw my tears.

He knew.

He understood.

It was a moment of truth so poignant I almost cried again, but for a whole new reason.

Isaiah 55:8 says God’s thoughts are not our thoughts and neither are His ways like our ways.

It’s a truth just as much as my new label is truth and really, to me, they are the same.  When I say I am a widow, I am saying I am not God.

God alone has the power and the wisdom to decide who lives and who dies. If it were up to me, I certainly would have chosen life for my late husband, but it’s not my choice because I’m not able to think like God.

So today I choose to take joy in the fact that I am not God, acknowledging my limitations and inability to see the greater picture. I choose to remember that though my vision is limited, God’s is not. And not only does He see the bigger picture, He sees the small stuff too, like the tears that run down our faces when we struggle through life’s greatest tragedies.I am God’s child, He knows my hurts and He has a plan- this is my source of hope!

This is your source of hope, too. You are His child as well.

He sees you.

Knows you.

Loves you.

Rescues you.