“I love Amelia”

Okay okay, I know, weird title for this one, but I’ve going to be super vulnerable and honest because maybe someone else needs to hear this too.

One of the girls wrote me a note, it’s hanging in my room at the flat. Three simple words are written on it with a giant heart. “I love Amelia”. I haven’t loved myself lately, and sometimes, when the devil really gets me down, I think, “how could anyone love this?” I hear it said over the phone and I’ve read it in texts and letters, but I’ve had a hard time believing it. Then tonight, I look up through tears and saw these three words. Why does she love me? I know it’s not because of what I look like, how pretty I am or how much I weigh, believe me, they have seen me on my trashy, shower-less days, and they’ve commented on the extra pounds Africa has graced me with. So it’s not because of that. It’s because of something else. “I love Amelia”. She loves me. Obnoxious, loud, energetic me. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there is some underlying reason as to why she loves me. But I know for a fact it’s not because of what I look like. I’ve been so wrapped up in the idea that people will only love me if I look a certain way, but Jesus reminded me that He loves me. Not my outfits or size. Not my hair or makeup. He loves my heart, my fragile emotions, my love for adventure. He loves my goofy smile and cheesy jokes. He loves my voice, even when it escalates. He loves that I hate wearing shoes and love telling stories. He loves my laugh, and that’s saying something. He loves me. And that’s all that matters. Woah. God is so good. Not 5 minutes ago I felt like crap. All I had to do was look up and read the sweet reminder He left for me; that I am loved, because I’m Amelia.