The Flawless Fallen

My face: I don’t like it. I dislike it almost as much as my height or my weight or my inability to say what I must when I must.

At least that used to be my mindset.

This is my face, a very artistically skewed representation… but still, my face.

Self Portrait in Pastel

My mother has always said that her teeth are too big. Obviously, this is not the case. Her teeth are the perfect size. If it weren’t for those teeth, her smile wouldn’t be quite so big. It wouldn’t reflect all the joy she carries inside.

And my mother isn’t the only one who is lovely when she doesn’t know it. Pretty much any person in front of me is bound to be observed and thought of as something remarkable.

That boy across from me at the coffee shop? One of his eyes squints ever-so-slightly more than the other when he smiles. That makes me smile too.

That little girl who just tumbled off of her spot during the christmas program? She was focusing really hard on trying to find her grandmother who is sitting in the third row. This thought makes me want to hug the little girl even more than when I first met her.

It is almost unavoidable for me to see that my mother and the brown-eyed boy at the coffee shop and the toppling girl at the Christmas program and so many others are irrevocably inarguably beautiful.

It is not that they are without fault. They are fallen. We live in a world that runs ramped with sin. There are mouths that lie, hearts that hate, minds that plot evil and hands that kill. But a gracious God offers redemption.  And that perfect God created everything. Each rock. Each tree. Each field mouse. And each person.

This perfect God does not make mistakes. So when He formed the strands of DNA in any given individual, He did not make a single mistake. That person is flawless. That person bears the personality and physical traits that God intended.

People are fallen. But they are not flawed.

God does not make mistakes.

I am no exception. And neither are you.