Be-you-tiful! I love seeing this in so many places because it is true. But there was a time when I did not know this. I still remember the day that I realized that I had a different color skin than my mother and sister. There was something about them standing next to each other that day that drew my attention to their brown skin and that, in turn, made me look at my own. When I looked down at my arm and saw that it was yellow, I became very upset and demanded an explanation from my mother about why my skin was a different color than theirs! My mother’s explanation that my skin was the same color as my father’s did not make me feel better, nor did her, “that’s the way God made me” explanation.
I did not take this discovery well, but I had no choice but to accept it. In my 4-year-old world, girls were brown, so why was I, a girl, yellow like my father and brother? It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I learned to appreciate my skin color. And it took even longer for me to understand that since God designed me, this is something to celebrate. I look back now and wonder what God must have thought of my reaction to the color that He made me. Hopefully, He laughed.
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