11:59 p.m. text

Confession time: I don't think I'm beautiful. I struggle to find my purpose in life and where I fit in despite going to college, playing soccer, and having a strong friend group. Some days, it's even harder for me to find my personal worth and value.

To explain where all these negative feelings come from would take pages upon endless pages of depressing experiences that I'll graciously spare you. Yet, they are still here. They are still the things I feel and think.

I can look back through my life and see how God has worked in me, through me, and around me, however that may appear. He's done miracles before my eyes and guided me along the way. But somehow turning to Him to find worth, value, purpose (and shall I say, 'prettiness') was not an option? I neglected to see how He could listen to such pitiful mumbling of a teenage girl struggling with "normal, every day" things. No wonder it has taken me over 4 years to realize HE DOES CARE!

Sometime this past Monday, I got to thinking about all this. All the feelings of unworthiness, little value, and so on...and frankly, I got pretty depressed. It hung with me through the next day until I talked with BJ (God has granted him an endless supply of patience, I SWEAR!) about all I was feeling and how there was nowhere to turn to get help to feel pretty again. Thank goodness he is wise beyond his years and simply instructed me to pray and turn it all over to God. Under my breath on the way to Theology of Ministry class I muttered to myself, "God, help me feel beautiful. Help me to be content with who I am." Simple, right?

I was in for more than I knew when class started and we had a guest speaker named Jeremy Ritch. This guy is insane. In the best of ways, and I truly mean that. He was tattooed all over the place, far different looking than any pastor I had ever laid eyes on, and his life had been one of great strife and questioning. Having grown up doing drugs and alcohol, going to church because his mother made him and after being kicked out of numerous churches for his tattoos, he eventually came to Christ and later started his ministry. Jeremy ministers to guys at bars, the homosexuals, transvestites, those who've changed sex, and so on. Yet Christians tell him he CAN'T and SHOULDN'T because of who they are. Admits all of this, he brought up what we've all heard time and time again in church: We are made in God's image. God does NOT screw up in making us. We are BEAUTIFUL, just the way we are. And where we are at in life is exactly where He wants us to be. Not guna lie, this was the first time it hit me.

Hours later, after much reflection on what Jeremy Ritch had talked about and just how profound it is to be created in the image of God, I began to cry. Cry because I still felt lost.

It was then, at 11:59 p.m. I got a text from my best friend Kristen Darby, and this is what it said: Dearest Kayleigh, I am contacting you for the purpose  of informing you that i love you :) hahaha today I was overwhelmed with how much i miss you and how awesome you are and how we need to hang out!! You are a beautiful daughter of the King and don't you dare ever forget it. 

I began to bawl now. I told her so.

She replied saying how God had laid it on her heart to tell me those things, to remind me who I am to Him, and the wonderful friendship I have with Kristen Darby.

My journey towards turning all these feelings over to God has only just begun. But I think I can say that after hearing from Darby and Jeremy, I know God is listening to my "pitiful" prayers and answering them. He is going to take me on a joy ride with the end goal being completely and utterly happy with who He has created me to be.

If you don't have a friend like Kristen, then I advise you get one asap. She is the best. And by the best I mean she is like a sister to me. I love her with all my heart and have been blessed time and time again by the fast friendship her and I have. If it weren't for her love for the Lord, for her listening to His still small whispers, Tuesday night could have ended up differently.