Before I was myself, I was a single stroke of color from God’s paintbrush.

I became a miniscule part of a great masterpiece, and before my parents could cradle my tiny body in their arms, God cradled my entire life in His hands. He called me “child," and told me that I was beautiful. He told me that I was made in His image. He told me that I was fearfully and wonderfully made. I was born an infant speck into this grand world, but God never doubted his love for me. I was my parents’ bundle of joy, and a creation of The Creator.

How could I ever doubt that the Lord was by my side?

Why did I doubt?

Why did I doubt Him in the fourth grade, when kids picked on me for being a "nerd"?

Why did I doubt him in middle school, where the price tag on a pair of jeans was considered worth more than the content of my heart?

Why did I doubt him in my freshman year of high school, when I saw friends become strangers because their self-destructive decisions were not the same decisions I chose to make?

Why did I forget about God? Why did I push Him away in favor of a crumbling facade of material things and fabricated happiness?

I might never be sure why, but God was still there, even in my questions. In my doubts, in my sorrows and in my stresses, he walked alongside me even when I wouldn’t turn a blind eye to Him. He gave me love, unconditionally, even when I felt I had nothing to give in return.

He helped me remember who I am to Him -- His creation. He helped me realize that my identity was not rooted in expensive objects or school awards…my identity was rooted in His Son, Jesus Christ.

And God saw me the entire time, and He knew what I was thinking. He knew how I felt, yet his love never left. And I would ask Him, “Why are you helping someone as lowly and lost as me?”

And He called me “child,” and told me I was beautiful. He told me that I was made in his image. He told me that I was fearfully and wonderfully made.

I give Him all my praise, all my heart, all my soul.

Before I was myself, I was a single stroke of color from God’s paintbrush...

...a small part of a big love.