You are made in the image of God … it was said to me throughout my childhood and adolescent years. When I was little, it meant very simply and innocently, “Red and yellow, black and white … They are precious in His sight … Jesus loves the little children of the world.” In my very young, very tender heart, it was literal … There were children all over the world, in tons of different places, who didn’t look like me, but Jesus’ love was the same for us all. Never did I question it. Between church every Sunday morning as well as Sunday and Wednesday evenings to VBS every summer, I was taught to believe and trust it. And so when I was 5 years old, in one of those church services when an altar call (remember those?) pricked my heart, I made that faith my own, walking forward to accept this Jesus who loved all children of the world. Pretty simple, pretty pure, and pretty trusting. Then life happened, and I didn’t stay a trusting 5-year-old.
I’ve thought about the in the image of God phrase a lot in the past couple of years. And in 2023, I now feel it is appropriately necessary to acknowledge and apologize for the “red and yellow, black and white” lyric I cited and the offense that could be taken. I, by no means, want to offend; I simply want to give a picture of my head space in 1969—a little girl's image that was beautiful and safe.
As a woman, wife, mother, and grandmother, I’ve been really pondering about the fact that I am, in my current 58-year-old body, “made in the image of God” … that Jesus loves me! Period. However, with the swipe of a finger, I can see the entire world and along with that comes self-doubt and the all-too-familiar comparison game. (Maybe you’ve played it too?) I judge. I have commentary. I can roll my eyes and even spiritualize my criticism toward anyone, discounting in a nanosecond the fact that the ones I see were, too, “made in the image of God.” The comparison game is so dangerous when we don’t remember or fail to see the whole picture. Oh, what arrogant pride I’ve had … oh, how easily I forget that Jesus loves me, that I am, in fact, enough.
Everyone—including me—carries a unique imprint of our Creator. Therefore, He also knows me … my sin, my lumps, and my bumps … and He still loves me (and you)! He loves every single one of us and longs for us to remember that we are His.
I so wish that I could go back to my 5-year-old self and tell her, “You are uniquely God’s, and your identity is in Him and in Him alone. And while comparison and judgment may seem to be the easy way, you are created in His image, and He desires a relationship with you because He is fond of you.”
As the days drift by and you find yourself in the Insta-comparison game, I hope this encourages you to take some deep breaths and intentionally remind yourself that God loves you, and nothing will change that. He is, in fact, fond of you.