He Sees Me — Even Here Rooted in Grace, Not Image
🕊️ “𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕕𝕠𝕝 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕒 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕖 — 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏”
Ezekiel 14:1–6
There was a night I couldn’t sleep.
Not because of noise, but because of the noise within.
The mirror had become a courtroom.
My healing? Too slow.
My appearance? Disappointing.
My heart whispered, “Al deserves better.”
And that’s when the Lord met me in Ezekiel.
He didn’t scold me.
He didn’t shame me.
He just… pointed. 👊🏻
To the throne of my heart.
And asked, ever so gently:
“𝑊ℎ𝑜'𝑠 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤?"
Because sometimes, idolatry isn’t a golden calf.
It’s the 𝚕𝚒𝚎 that says I must be more before I can
be loved fully.
It’s the 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 that says I’m falling behind.
It’s the 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 that says I’m not enough.
But God is not a tyrant.
He’s a King — our rightful one.
And He doesn’t share thrones.
So I whispered back, trembling,
“𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴… 𝘠𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘢… 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘦, 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵.”
Not out of shame.
But out of longing —
for Him to take His place again.
Even here.
Even in this body.
Even with this knee and these scars and this skin.
Because even if He doesn’t change what I see in the mirror today —
He’s still good.
And I’ll wait for the rain.
In the desert.
With Him.























































































