I know I made this entry several days ago, but I am putting it up again and this time I am not simply going to look at it. I am going to destroy the lies and take the plunder!
“Elizabeth, does your mom know you are wearing a midriff shirt?”
What was a midriff? What does she mean does my mom know I am wearing this shirt? Of course my mom knows what I’m wearing, I’m five, my mom helped dress me this morning.
It was warm out,probably summer, and my outfit looked like sunshine. Bright yellow. That’s all I really remember, bright yellow with a small red or pink pattern on it, flowers? Boats? Lady bugs? It was sunshine, I felt like sunshine and then suddenly I was unsure of my sunshine.
“I’m sure your mom would not want you showing your belly button.” What? Why not? What’s wrong with my belly button? My mom let me wear this outfit, she let me be sunshine! But just in case, I spent the rest of the day trying to hide my belly button from my friend’s mom.
For years I didn’t understand why showing my belly button should be shamed (it shouldn’t be- that’s between me and God). It wasn’t until I hit puberty that those little flutters in my stomach and heat in my face let me know that there is something about belly buttons that is exciting (yep, I went there…puberty…). But not belly buttons of a child. I had no lust in my heart, no desire to tempt a brother or sister; I was a child and my intentions were to look like sunshine, I was not at fault in this situation. And I know there are some of you out there who will say, “but there are broken people who lust after children.” Yea, that’s true, but I was not created to live in fear of the broken. It is not my responsibility (as a five year old) to protect a broken man or woman from lustful thoughts. That shame is misplaced and needs to be destroyed!
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.
Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.
My belly button is a reminder that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. My bully button is a reminder that I was knit together in my mother’s womb. My belly button is a reminder that I am a reward! I am a heritage from the Lord! I am His and my frame is not hidden from Him. He knows it all, I need not hide in shame, He knows it all, I am a gift and He claims me as His own.