Dear Beautiful Chocolate Girl,
I look into your big, brown eyes and see the possibilities of myself. In this photo, you just turned five years old, posing at Nana’s dining room table. That’s your happy place – surrounded by your writing tools. You’re proud, content, and feel quite loved. Your biggest concern is grilled cheese or tuna fish to go with your tomato soup. Yes, you really love tomato soup.
On this particular day, your mother Stella decided to take your picture. It wasn’t hard getting your attention, as you love the camera. The truth is she wanted to capture you so happy doing something she knows you love.
You haven’t begun to see yourself through God’s eyes yet. A lesson you will have to learn again and again: to see yourself through God’s eyes and love yourself from your own heart.
You’ve spent too much time trying to please others and be what they wanted you to be. You will have to learn that the wounds of your past will destroy your self-esteem - English teacher telling you your writing was bad, unhealthy relationships, assault, and divorce.
Yet, through it all you’ve held on to your strong belief in God and His belief in you. That will be your greatest gift: knowing that God’s power is greater than yourself and trusting that to guide you.
The course of your life changed the day you uploaded your manuscript to Tate Publishing. You were so nervous to do that but excited at the same time. It will only take 3 weeks for them to email you with good news. So, get ready for your life to change.
Knowing you have a purpose and plan for your life, outlined by God, is what will sustain and fulfill you – through good and bad times. Things will not always be rosy; you will have challenging days. Keep your Bible close and those who love you even closer.
From what I see, viewing your journey, there are few regrets. On the day of this photo, you took school pictures in your kindergarten class. Your smile is fearless showing your missing two front teeth. Even then you understood your inner beauty and power and how special you are.
I love you,
Archuleta