We are constantly trying to find ourselves
Look for pieces of who we are in other people
Find reflections in broken mirrors hoping they will give us whole perceptions
Trace back through our pasts and see if we left ourselves there
We are constantly trying to find ourselves
In places we never were to begin with
In the names we’ve been called the busyness we drown ourselves in
Our identity is not given to us by people
Who are still searching for who they are
Our identity is not found in a world that attempts to shatter any foundation
of truly knowing ourselves
Our identity, inherited by a grace ordained to us
by the one who molded each of our frames in his hands
Our identity is not solely in what we do
Or what we say, it is engrained in who we are
An Identity instilled upon us before this world could touch us
Who we are is worthy, precious, valued, and loved unconditionally
Orchestrated with a certain grace that lingers in your namesake
You are so much more than this world will tell you
We are constantly trying to find ourselves in all the wrong places
Find our identity in hands that did not create us
Aimlessly searching to find ourselves
while He stands in the center of our whirlwind journey
with a frame held up to his face and waits
and notice our own painted there too
Your name is daughter, wonderful, adored, necessary and purposed
This place will try to tell you, everything you are not
it is your job to be all of that and more
Remind them, that power is in knowing who you are
and who you are dear one,
