Thanks to @tamaraoutloud for the incredible post, and for the chance for all of us to reflect together. visit her blog to read the powerful stories of women (and men!) who have learned the worth of a girl. may our stories echo into each other's hearts in ways that glorify the only One worthy of our every moment.
There’s a story about a man who goes to a church service where the pastor is trying to give a visual demonstration of what sexual immorality can do to a person. This pastor has a freshly picked rose on the stage with him and shows the congregation how beautiful and spotless and valuable the rose is, untainted by anything.
He then passes the rose around to everyone, that they might feel it and hold it and touch it. Once the rose has made its way through the fingers and hands of several people, it returns to the pastor’s hands and he holds up the now wilted, bruised, tarnished rose and he screams, “Who would want this rose now? Who would ever want this worthless rose?”
Unfortunately I believed the popular lie that my complete identity was wrapped up inside the choices I made. I believed that my worth was determined by my past; and I lived in a way that reflected regret and remorse.
I felt like I didn’t deserve good. I felt worthless. The price tag for my soul was a shredded up piece of cloth; I was used up, second hand, and something to be tossed aside. What I had willingly done with my heart left me as dry as a breath of wind.
Thankfully, Grace has different prices of worth.
Thankfully, God measures me differently than I do. And His measuring system no longer sees what I have done.
Thankfully, Christ – Someone of ultimate worth and value – came to pay my debt, before I even made the mistake of walking in disobedience.
My value is not decided by my messy history.
My worth is not contingent upon how many times I have said sorry.
My cost is not compromised based on the amount of blood I spill at the foot of my own cross.
The fact that God sees me as faultless, blameless, and pure in light of Jesus is what determines my worth.
The man in the story feels heat behind his face as the pastor poses these questions. The man is so enraged at the pastor’s obvious blindness that he stands and yells to the pastor at the top of his lungs, “Jesus does! Jesus wants the rose! That’s the point of the Gospel!”
God has priced me with a worth unimaginable.
God has picked me to be set a part, holy, and consecrated to His own heart.
God has chosen me, a worn out rose, as His beloved bride.
A girl is worth the chance to believe that, and to live like she is desperate for it.