My Daughter, I see you

Like my previous books, Hold Her Close starts with a psalm. Unlike my previous books, I’m finding it really hard to share this one. Mostly because I’m not there yet, and sharing something like this when so often I fall short in my own life feels so hypocritical.

I mean, Christian authors are supposed to have it all together, right?

Ha. I wish. Nope. I’m as human as the rest of you.

I’ve almost taken this psalm out so many times. And yet, it’s still there. Still in the final version of Hold Her Close which will be published come October 1. Why? Because I want to believe it. And because I think a lot of other women need to hear it too.

Usually I choose psalms for my characters/books from my journal but from the first book in this series, I knew I wanted these ones to be written from the Father’s point of view, to go with the idea of the parables. Each one would be a love letter from the Father to His daughters. So I sat down and wrote what I thought God the Father would want to tell Evangeline, His prodigal, and my readers who wondered if they were too far gone to come home. Then what He’d tell Mykah, who gives and gives of herself but wonders if any of it will ever be enough.

Then came Rose. And I stopped. Stared at the empty page. What would the Father tell Rose?

This.

I think He’d wrap her and her insecurities in a tight embrace and whisper this to her. Over and over again. As many times as she needed to hear it.

Today, I want to tell you that you’re seen. You’re heard. You’re enough.

First and foremost, you’re seen by God. He sees your heart, your hopes, your dreams.

He sees how hard you try, even when no one else notices.

He sees the hours of work you put into that project no one else cared about.

He sees how many times you pick up the same toys, over and over again, only to have them on the floor again at the end of the day.

He sees the smile you gave your kids when you wanted to cry, and the times you held yourself together when you just wanted to fall apart.

He saw you cheer on your friend when your own heart was breaking and how hard you trained and practiced for that one event.

He saw your excitement over that little thing that really shouldn’t have mattered all that much but meant so much to you. He smiled too.

He saw your tears when that dress didn’t quite fit the way you hoped, or your energy didn’t stretch as far as you needed, or your best efforts fell short. He sat beside you when hope seemed low and you felt so alone.

You’re not alone, and you’re not invisible. He saw you the first time. He sees you every time. While you look at yourself and see all the ways you failed, He looks at you and sees a woman he’s so, so, so incredibly proud of. You are cherished beyond what you could ever understand.

Struggling to believe that? Yeah. Me too. Some days. The days when it’s so much easier to count my failures. The days when comparison cuts deep into my heart and I wonder if I’ll ever be enough or why I even bother. When, far from feeling cherished, I wonder why God made me like this when I’m such a burden to those around me. When all I can see is the ways I don’t, or can’t, or never will measure up. No matter what I do or how hard I try.

Rose’s psalm is so much shorter than the others because that was all I could write of it before I started to cry. Started to feel as if that was exactly what God was telling me too, and how hard it was to accept it.

It’s so easy for me to tell others that God loves them and is proud of them and sees them. It’s easy because I believe it with all my heart. I can see the good in them, even when they’re struggling to see it in themselves. I love encouraging people and going out of my way to bring hope and courage to their wondering hearts. I didn’t lie about the above. I believe it. That God sees all that in you. That God see someone amazing and cherished and an absolute masterpiece He couldn’t be more proud of.

But me? Yeah, that one’s harder. It’s like my faith and my failures are constantly at war. Sometimes faith wins. Sometimes, far more often than I’d like, my doubts do.

I want to look in that mirror and see myself as God does because I know it’s true but… it’s hard. Because while I know that’s how God sees me, and I know that God loves me, I also know how often I fail. As a Christian, a mom, a wife, a friend, a cook, a cleaner, a writer—the list goes on.

I yelled at the kids because I was tired and they were loud.

My book launches in six weeks and I haven’t even started thinking about launch stuff. (Whereas an author whose book comes out after mine is already well into preorder bonuses and making amazing reels and booking podcasts, all while having almost finished her next book. In six weeks. While running a business, and family, and probably a country too.)

I put hours of work and everything I had into marketing and no one even saw it. Someone else just went viral with a picture of a cat sleeping.

I cleaned the house for three hours only to have it a total mess by the time my husband got home.

I forgot to check the kids’ pockets and sent a tissue through the wash.

My son’s school lunch makes me look like a pathetic parent. No matter how many times I remind myself that I’ve tried and tried and no amount of super healthy food in there will make him eat it if he’d rather go out and run around at break (and will fill up again as soon as he comes home).

I could go on. I won’t, but you get the idea.

It’s a battle. And if you’re there too, you’re not alone. Not by far. We might hide it from the world—and social media at large—because it’s easier to share the wins than the losses, but you’re not alone in the struggle. Not alone in the number of times you look in the mirror and look away. Or wish you were someone else. And then feel the weight of guilt for thinking so.

But just because you struggle to see it, just because I do, doesn’t make it untrue. Today, I’m reminding myself as I remind all of you:

You are loved.

You are needed.

You are precious.

You are here for a reason, and the world—and your family—are better because of it.

God didn’t make a mistake when He made you and He doesn’t think you’re a mistake now. Not now. Not ever.

When He looks at you, He doesn’t see a failure or a burden, He sees the very best parts of Himself. Your creativity, your love, your stubbornness, your desire to do good and see the best in others. He sees your heart along with your heartache. Your faith and your failings.

Where you see weakness, He sees strength. Where you count your scars and hide them away, He sees your courage and how, daily, you’re using what you have to bless others. Where you see flaws, He sees beauty.

You.

You’re the beauty. The one He cherishes. The one He can’t help but show off as His child.

Though you struggle, I pray you never forget that. I pray I don’t either.

There is hope. Today might be dark, but it’s not the end. Far from it.

I can’t wait to see where God takes your story, and mine, from here.

❤️ Hannah