So often I fall short of his glory. Forget I was made for his glory. That I am a vessel forged for his glory.
He made me in his image. A woman he made me. And this too was in his image. To be a help mate he made me and this too was for his glory which I would do in his image as a woman.
He adorned me. With long hair, long lashes and long legs to serve his purpose. His will to do with my curves, my lips and my hips.
Deliberate was he in his creation there was nothing random about my differences. I would stand and fall in seasons of his choosing as all things worked together for good for this being that loved him so.
Fragile he made me. To be led he instructed. Like the loving father he is he gives the bride away only to one he has come to know and trust. He will not give his prized vessel to just anyone. He will give it to he who's heart belongs to him because in his heart he has placed his kind of love. A love patient and kind, love not jealous or self seeking, love protecting.
For his glory he made me in his image. He made me woman, to serve his purpose as his vessel. I am loved. I will be loved always.
Ms. C
