The Birthmark

Considering that I seem to use this blog as a diary of my deepest, darkest secrets, I've got another one to share. God is teaching me so much lately.

When I first saw Rooney's birthmark on her neck, I felt disappointed.

It makes me so sad to say that. I just finally admitted it to Eric last week.

I thought, I made this thing, and it's not perfect.

I'm not proud of that. And, it's not even true.

God made her in my womb, and she's exactly how He wanted her to be.

He doesn't make mistakes.

He set her apart and made her unique. And as someone who always wanted to stand out and be different, I should be rejoicing. (We named her Rooney, for goodness sakes. It's not like we didn't want her to be different.)

But at the time, I couldn't see the beauty of it.

I assured myself that it would be fine, but I will honestly say that I didn't like it for a while. And I worried about how it might stretch as she grows.

The pediatrician in the hospital called it a mole (I'm still not perfectly clear on the difference...) and that it is flat and nothing to worry about. It has actually lightened up in color a lot.

And everyone says it's cute, but I can't help but think that they are just saying that to be nice.

I don't want Rooney to ever read this blog post, because it doesn't matter. I really can't imagine her without it now. I love her so much. And she is a beauty. And I need her to know and believe that.

I pray that she never says she doesn't like her birthmark. I pray that she never feels insecure about it.

Because when I think about it, I kind of love the mole on my right shoulder. And Rooney's will always be a reminder to me that He's in control. And that I shouldn't be so shallow.

Do you have a birthmark?