Every Morning

“See the Beauty, Not the Blemish.”

Two years ago I lived in a basement apartment with two girls with whom I had absolutely nothing in common except that we were picked for the year-long internship at WG. We learned to love each other and love each other well, something I don't think I really knew until it was over. We had this tear-away calendar in our kitchen that gave little nuggets of “wisdom” or fuzzy sorts of thoughts for the day and most of the time I mocked it. But one day this sentence came up and it struck me as so constantly applicable that I saved it and taped it to our bathroom mirror.

Two years and a few moves later it is still on my bathroom mirror.

And I still need to be reminded about it.

My faith has faded from relevancy as of late, the way that friendships do when they are based more on proximity than personality. I don't have a specific reason why, it has slowly and seamlessly occurred. It isn't that I love less or more, rather it is that my faith simply ceased to be the main defining characteristic in my view of myself. However I have held fast to the promise of a single phrase from Lamentations: “They are new every morning.”

I love that. Hopes are new every morning; truths are as well. With waking comes newness. Each morning, as I stare at my puffy eyes and gawdawful bedhead I am reminded to see that beauty as new that day, rather than see the blemishes of the nevers, the maybes and the not quites. I am reminded that I am new.

And that is something for which I thank God.