“But You are a shield around me, Oh Lord; You bestow glory on me and lift up my head.”
{Psalm 3:3, NIV}

The other shopper approached as I carefully selected my vine-ripened tomatoes. I felt his stare before I heard his words.

“What’s wrong with your face?” he probed incredulously. “What happened to you?”

Perhaps it was poorly worded innocent curiosity, but his words cut deep. Like bullets from a sharpshooter’s weapon, each letter pierced through my already fragile spirit. I reached for the ledge to steady myself and willed the tears not to fall.

It had been months since my last operation. Friends and co-workers said they could hardly tell I ever had surgery, let alone twenty-something of them. It started at the age of eighteen. A watery eye and stuffy nose led to a cancer diagnosis, a tumor growing from the underside of my brain and filling my sinus.

Fifteen years later, I continue to deal with its painful repercussions.

I stared at him stunned, my mind frozen and racing at the same time. Did he really just ask me that? Am I that ugly, that hideous a stranger would stop me to inquire about my face? My hand threatened to catapult a tomato at him, but the rest of me just longed to disappear. Eventually, I stammered something about cancer and stumbled away embarrassed and humiliated. I left the store teary eyed and wounded, with my chin buried in my chest, not making eye contact with anybody.

Over time, my body recovered from its hunched posture, but my spirit struggled. The shopper questioned my appearance that day, but his words, as words so often do, seeped deeper. He asked, “What’s wrong with your face?” But what became lodged into every cell of my body was, “What’s wrong with you?”

What’s wrong with you?

How often is that layered into a look, a comment, or a question I receive? How often am I on the giving rather than the receiving end?

Whether spoken or not, we hear it frequently, don’t we? You’re inadequate. You’re not enough. You don’t measure up. There’s something wrong with you . . .and not just with what you do, but who you are. And each time we hear it, our spirit retreats, chin buried, not making eye contact with anybody.

But there are those moments when we become quiet and sense God come close.

He sees our stooped posture and downcast eyes, and with fingers tenderly placed under our chin, He gently lifts up our head until our tear-stained eyes meet His. Softly He brushes back our hair to more fully see our face. There is no shame, no surprise, no shock in His gaze.

He sees us — not just the person we created to be accepted and protected, but the person He created when He first dreamed us into being.

He reminds us that He is our shield against the wounds of life. Without saying a word, He bestows glory on us, in us, through us, until we’re absolutely glowing. We have significance. We have worth. We have beauty. Simply because we are His.

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Related: Carry your favorite hot or cold drink with you wherever you go in this fun travel mug and be reminded daily that you are Beautiful Beyond Words.

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