I AM SO DUMB.
I found these four words scribbled across the top of my daughter’s schoolwork. She’d written them in a moment of insecurity and anger, believing she truly was dumb.
The enemy attacked us today. What looked like a normal day of school at home became a breeding ground for lies to slip through the front door, multiply around us, and spread doubt and discouragement.
He sought my daughter and made her his victim.
Pencil in hand, she chewed her bottom lip, carefully penning words to paper. Thoughtfully, she created a rough draft of a poem. When she carried it to me, I praised her. This subject is her least favorite and her lack of confidence gave the enemy a foothold in her life.
Somehow, between the short walk from kitchen island where I stood and her seat at the dining room table, self-doubt erased any remembrance of praise and encouragement. She slipped into her seat, let her head fall in her arms, and sobbed.
I AM SO DUMB.
I called her name, lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes. “Never, ever believe you are dumb. That is a lie from the pits of hell. You ARE smart. You ARE valuable. Precious. Chosen. You ARE created in God’s image.”
I made her repeat after me.
I am created in God’s image. I am NOT dumb and I will not believe that lie. I AM intelligent.
