It’s kind of interesting that I’m writing this article. Even as I sit here typing away, I wonder if I’m qualified to write about insecurities. Then again, I don’t know what kind of qualifications stand in the way of writing on such a topic. Maybe being a human is one such qualification, as insecurities seem to occur in all of us.

I am very familiar with my flaws. My left eyebrow is shorter than my right, my hips are too bony, my hair is full of split ends and my overbite seems to get worse every day. These are the things I have always noticed when I look in the mirror. Flaws. Imperfections. Everything I want to change.

But I think we can all agree that finding our flaws is a very dangerous game to play.

I struggled with my self image for years. Everything I did was with the hope that it’d make me prettier, thinner and more noticeable. As ridiculous as it sounds, I would rather be late to class than show up without makeup on. I wouldn’t give up my old jeans. Instead I used them as a measure of how thin I used to be. And Heaven forbid I eat the free food at meetings because we all know what one slice of pizza would do to my body.

This struggle consumed me. My identity was my image, and my flaws were my character. It’s a horrible reality that exists for so many people: We look around and see that we are surrounded by distorted mirrors, mirrors reflecting everything that is just too easy to eat up and believe. They tell us we’re not good enough, or thin enough, or smart enough, or fun enough, or pretty enough.

But they’re lying.

“But now, O Lord, You are our Father; We are the clay, and You our potter; And all we are the work of Your hand.” – Isaiah 64:8

The God of the universe did not make you out of a kindergartener’s leftover pieces of Play-Doh. He cares way more than that. He poured time into us, and shaped us ever-so lovingly. So why is it still so difficult to see past our insecurities, even when we know how carefully we were made?

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, and I think the answer lies in the simple fact that society’s mirrors are everywhere, and they’re extraordinarily tempting. They promise happier, more popular versions of ourselves, if only we can look the part. They tell us that we need better grades, more friends and better bodies. We obsess over our insecurities, trying so desperately to squash them in order to fit an image we weren’t even meant to be confined to.

Trust me. I know this struggle. Everyone knows this struggle. But I can honestly say that as soon as I realized where my identity came from, I knew that I didn’t need to look in society’s mirror for approval. I didn’t need a better body, a funnier personality or a more successful academic streak to know that I was loved. My identity lay in Jesus Christ, and He led me to a mirror that reflected my value found in Him. We are carefully crafted, intricately thought out and perfectly designed. We are not spare scraps of Play-Doh, riddled with flaws and insecurities. We are treasured and beloved, precious and valuable, cared for and forgiven. And that’s what God’s mirror has reminded me of every day.