My body. It's a work of art that was built by God himself. No matter how many bruises or scrapes cover my skin, I know they do not define me. I used to think that in order to show the world how tough I was I had to look broken physically. I needed to be covered in bruises that showed off my hard work. I need scrapes and cuts to show that even if my skin broke I was still here. I was a fighter. I was strong. Now, I've learned that I don't need to prove to anyone else that I'm a strong willed women. The only person I need to prove my worth to is myself and God. He is the one that's seen me at my lowest yet still chose to love me and spread his grace over me. Even when I damaged this body in which he provided me he did not shy away from me. Learning to not be ashamed of the skin and body he has given me hasn't been the easiest of tasks. It's an everyday battle. I wake up and have to tell myself to not be ashamed of the way I look, of the way I am, to not shame the life that my Lord and Savior bestowed upon me. To love every flaw on my skin. To love the stretch marks that show my growth. My scars that show the struggles I've faced but got through. To love every blemish and freckles. For my body is just a vessel for my soul that serves one purpose. The purpose to worship and spread the love of God and all that is good in this world. To stand up against evil and say that no matter what happens to me physically, my soul will never be tarnished. I will rejoice in the name of the Lord and all that he has given me!