To the man I created,
Come, sit with me for a minute. Take a breath. Quiet your mind. Still your hardworking hands.
I know it’s not easy but please, have a seat. It can be on a stump from the tree you just cut down, on the basketball court with your fresh Nike Hyperdunks laced up ready to play, in the 2019 company car your record high sales for 2018 got you, or in your computer chair that raises and lowers with one easy motion. Whatever, wherever, just sit.
I need you to let you know something.
You. Are. Enough.
I hear you laughing, I see your smirk. Skimming over those words above. You scoff. Poetic and pretty words are meant for women, you think. Hearing you are fearfully and wonderfully made doesn’t apply to you. But son, it does. Those words are for and about you too.
I see your striving. I see your relentless approach to impress and provide, your searching for meaning as you hustle, grind and repeat. Your mind convinced you long ago that the harder you work = the more you provide = the more it shows to your spouse, family, and friends how much you are worth. Your value is tied up in what you can complete and finish. Your ability or creativity becomes one of biggest attributes you use when defining yourself. You spend some of the most precious time you have in proving to everyone outside how much you can be trusted, relied on, and respected.
Or sometimes that time is spent on proving to yourself of the very same.
But I know you.
I see the real you.
The real you that is stuffed so deep inside that it would take multiple drops of TNT to uncover. But it’s there.
You don’t think of yourself as much.
You don’t think you are good enough to be even called a man some days.
While you appreciate the sentiments, you hardly believe you are a #1 Dad or the World’s Greatest Husband/Friend, as the t-shirts and coffee mugs profess.
Success at work, completing a finished project, seeing loved ones smile in your direction only smooth some of the rough patches of your heart’s craving for a purpose and desire to be loved.
More than anything, you just want someone to see you on those broken days and be affirmed that you are still enough. The days where the projects at work are too many to count and you have to leave them to another day. The days where you leave no points on the scoreboard. Even though you would die at the stake than admit it aloud, you too, just want to be loved for who you are. Not for what you do or don’t do.
And guess what?
You are.
I didn’t give up my son to spend time on Earth so those words and verses you call “pretty” in the Bible could only be applied to women.
I came to provide you, too, with hope and purpose.
You, also, have value, worth, and a calling on your life.
Hard work is good, labor is good for the body, mind, and spirit, after all, I created it. But it is not what is supposed to be your definition. I give you and your life meaning and purpose. I get to tell you who you are. Not you. Not the work you do. Not the sports you play. Or even the lies you believe.
I get to tell you who you are.
I don’t lie, I don’t change, and I actually created you, therefore you can trust what I say about you.
When I say you are worth more than sparrows, you are.
When I say I knitted you together in your mother’s womb, I mean you too.
When I say you are fearfully and wonderfully made, I mean it.
When I say I so loved the world, that includes you too.
You matter, too.
Love,
Your Creator
