My favorite movie says a lot about me. It tells you that beneath my tomboyish, “boy mom” exterior, I’m a pretty sappy romantic at heart. It explains my strange desire to go to Paris and sit by a bridge with my coffee and my journal. It also tells you a lot about my battles with self-esteem.
Ever seen Sabrina?
I’ve seen both, but I heart the “new” version with Harrison Ford, Greg Kinnear, and Julia Ormond. If you’ve never watched it, go rent it. It’s awesome. I can quote large portions of the movie. I’ll give you a quick summary. Sabrina is a chauffer’s daughter who lives in an apartment above the garage with her widowed dad, who works for the mega-rich Larrabee family. She is a shy, awkward, frizzy haired girl who is in love with David Larrabee, the youngest son. In an effort to end her fixation with David and help her find herself, Sabrina’s dad sends her to Paris to work for a fashion magazine. She returns home transformed, and – well, you’ll just have to rent the movie to find out the rest.
The movie came out in late 1995, when I was a sophomore in high school. I fell in love with it when I first saw it. I was a young Sabrina, and I longed to become a beautiful, sophisticated, talented woman like she did. I was tall, skinny, awkward, clumsy, and painfully shy. While most of my friends were getting their braces off, I was just getting mine on. I had a few close friends, but a shy book lover who lived and breathed horses and horseback riding didn’t fit anywhere in my very cliquish high school. I wasn’t pretty, athletic, or outgoing. Add to that a messed up family background and having to constantly explain why my grandparents were raising me – and you had a pretty big mess with tons of emotional baggage.
Things started changing for me as I grew up a little, as they often do, but it’s hard to shake that inner voice that tells you you’re not good enough. It followed me into my marriage and into motherhood. It followed me for years, until one day I started listening – really listening – to what God had been trying to tell me all along. He told me:
‘For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.
For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb.
“Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me.
God made me, and He made great plans for me. He gives me my value – not my looks, my brains, my abilities, or anything else in this life – and to Him, I’m a priceless treasure, a treasure worth dying for. If He feels that way about me, nothing else matters. I may never get to Paris, and I’m certainly no Sabrina Fairchild, but I’m something far better – I’m precious in God’s sight.
That gives me all the confidence I need.