Life, On the Nose

I used to be very self-conscious about my nose. Once gone the stubby cuteness of youth, my adolescent self was not prepared for for my Italian genes to show up in full-force. In my eyes, I was the bearer of a proboscis of colossal proportions. A nose that walked before me and announced my impending arrival.

"It's very regal, Anna" my mother would say. "Roman and stately. Unique." I wasn't buying the 'regal' and 'Roman' and 'stately' were not what I wanted to embody. And really, 'unique'? Blending in was far preferable to standing out. I wanted darling, small, impish. And while you're at it, change my name to something adorable, like Heidi or Tiffany.

But now, with thirty-five just around the bend, I like my name. And I like my nose.

Perhaps it's maturity. Perhaps it's self-confidence that develops with time. Perhaps it's being the mother to a son and two beautiful young girls who may or may not inherit my features. And since this blog, ultimately, is a life-letter to my children, I want to remind them: God made you. On purpose. Fully. Down to the detail. Down to the nose. He made you unique ... and He is worthy of praise.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, 
I know that full well. 
Psalm 139:13-14