The Moment It Clicked
Reflection
For years, I believed being made in the image of God had something to do with my brown skin, my features, the way I looked. But the connection felt thin—beautiful, yes, but distant.
Then the Lord opened my eyes: His image in me is not about the outside—it’s the deep, inner design. The capacity to love, create, choose, and commune with Him. My skin is sacred, but His image runs deeper still.
Before His Spirit dwelt in me, I was already carrying His mark. My spirit was His creation, but we were not yet in full communion. It was as if my life was wired for His power, yet waiting to be plugged into the source.
This is not about shame—it’s about wonder. Wonder that the same God who formed me would also fill me. That His Spirit’s indwelling was not a stranger entering my life, but a homecoming to the place He had prepared all along.
From Image to Indwelling: My Spirit’s Homecoming
Venita Welcome
I was formed in His image—
not in clay tones or curls,
but in the breath-print of the Divine.
A mirror made to move,
to love, to speak, to choose.
I bore the shape of heaven’s dream
but walked with a soul still reaching.
Before His Spirit filled me,
I was lit—but not yet glowing.
I laughed, but the echo felt thin.
I searched for Him in shadows,
mistaking reflections for Presence,
and silence for absence.
I was never abandoned—
just waiting to be awakened.
His fingerprint was on me,
but the fire hadn’t been kindled.
My spirit—crafted by His hands—
was made for Him,
but not yet with Him.
Then came the indwelling.
Not a visit.
Not a weekend revival.
But a holy move-in.
The Spirit of the Living God
took residence in the home
He designed Himself.
And suddenly—
my hunger made sense.
My ache had a name.
My dreams had roots.
The image met the indweller,
and I became alive in ways
my bones remembered
but had never known.
This is not shame,
this is story.
This is not loss,
this is return
Closing Thought
Sometimes we think we’re looking for purpose, clarity, or a fresh start—but maybe we’re really looking for the One who shaped us in the first place. The One who knows the contours of our spirit because He designed them.
If you’ve ever felt “lit but not yet glowing,” maybe you’re closer to your own homecoming than you think.
