Numbers.

To the world, I am just a number. A series of unrelated digits strung together to form an identity.

I am a Social Security number.
A birthdate.
An IQ.
An address.
A zipcode.

I am a phone number.
An account number.
A patient ID number.
A test score.
A grade point average.

I am a dress size.
A shoe size.
A checkbook balance.
A number on the scale.
A driver's license number.

All of those things are "true" about me. But they are not the TRUTH about me.

To God, I am not FEMALE PERSON # 978478923864892834690203. My Lord knows me so intimately that He knows the NUMBER of times I rise and sit.

The NUMBER of hairs on my head are counted by Him.

He knows the NUMBER of my days.

He knows me as who I am. The one He made for a specific purpose. The one He loves with a passion so deep and wide that only He can calculate.

The one He wants to be friends with.

But my favorite thing about God is that He isn't counting the NUMBER of times I fail. He keeps ZERO record of my wrongs. There is NO spreadsheet documenting my shortcomings.

Who I am is enough for Him.

That is a good thought for this messed-up, imperfect woman who spent most of the day fretting over my jean size and my credit card balance. The rise and fall of both these EARTHLY NUMBERS has made my self-worth nose dive into enemy territory.

It's time to go stick my nose in the Bible and have God tell me how high I rank in His eyes!

His math makes me look good.