I chose you when I planned creation. I knew you even before you were conceived. See, I knitted you together in the womb; each piece, each section, was made to perfection. You were not a mistake. You are not just decoration to the world. You have a purpose, both your spirit and body. For all of your days are written in my book. I determined the exact time of your birth and where you would live. I smiled at the joy that you gave to me and continue to give. You were fearfully and wonderfully made, and the lies about you will never cause that to fade. But you look at your reflection, and question the creation I have made. Your mind and mouth start taking turns speaking the harmful lies about my creation. You start looking as if… disgusted. You pick out each detail, each so-called imperfection and call it names. You speak lies about yourself, repeating, “I am this and I am that. I am this and I am that”. And it all gets so loud that you can not even hear me weeping for you. My love, you do not understand. I worked so hard on you. From each inch to each section to an overflow of my perfection, the time I made you was the most precious of times. You are perfect in my eyes.
Is that not enough? I have numbered each strand of hair on your head, one by one. Not because I was bored, but because I wanted to demonstrate your worth to me. By showing you how much I love each piece and each detail of your being, I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.
Is that not enough? I am the King of kings, Lord of everything, Creator Elohim, and I have created you. I have called you perfect in my eyes.
Is that not enough? I have called you royalty, a child of the King. Every part of you, I have made for my kingdom.
Is that not enough? Making each part the very best, I took my time with your design. That way, when you ask me what is my favorite part, I can smile and tell you it is the whole masterpiece. Is that not enough? I love you. Every inch, every detail, and even everything you call a flaw, I love it. I do not make mistakes. I just ask of you, my child, to not only love the blessings I give you, but love my creation. Love what I have made. YOU. This creation is not like something of an infection, but every piece and every section, to me, is perfection.

I.s.