Every time a child is born, families gather around and almost immediately begin comparing. Who does the baby look like? The mother or the father? Someone points out the eyes, another notices the nose, and before long the room is filled with opinions and laughter. It’s almost instinctive, this need to trace a child back to someone else, as if resemblance helps us understand where they belong. In a way, it feels like we’re all trying to claim a small piece of this brand-new person before we even know who they are.
I did the same thing.
When Sophia was born, I found myself searching for familiarity. I pulled up baby pictures of Emilie and studied them side by side, holding them next to each other and scanning for similarities. In those early days, it’s hard to tell—most babies look pretty much the same in the infancy stage. Soft faces, rounded cheeks, features that haven’t yet settled into anything distinct. At that stage, you’re mostly guessing.
But as Sophia grew out of that newborn look and into her baby face, things became clearer. Her features began to take shape, and it was obvious that she favored her father. The resemblance wasn’t subtle. Still, there were moments—certain expressions, tiny mannerisms, a look in her eyes—that reminded me of Emilie. Those moments felt important, like little confirmations that I was seeing something meaningful.
It’s such a common thing for families to do, and I commented on it often. I’d joke with Emilie, saying things like, “Sorry, she looks exactly like her father.” We laughed about it more than once. It felt harmless and lighthearted, just part of the way people talk about babies. No deeper meaning intended. Just conversation.
Then one day, during a similar exchange, Emilie said something that stopped me completely.
“She looks like Sophia to me,” she said. “Just Sophia. And that is all.”
That is all.
Her words lingered in the air long after the conversation moved on. At first, I wondered if I had unintentionally hurt her feelings with all the comparisons that seemed to leave her out. I replayed past comments in my head, questioning whether they landed differently than I meant them to.
But that wasn’t it at all.
She wasn’t offended. She wasn’t correcting me. She was simply stating a truth—plain, uncomplicated, and confident.
And the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was the same truth I’ve spoken over my own girls for years. Emilie looks like Emilie. Shelby looks like Shelby. Neither one looks exactly like me or their dad, and honestly, they don’t even look much like each other. Their connection isn’t found in identical features or shared expressions. They are connected by love, by history, by the life they’ve grown together—not by carbon-copy appearances.
Since overthinking is my superpower, I sat with Emilie’s words longer than most people probably would. I let them settle in my heart and mind, turning them over again and again. That reflection led me to Psalm 139:13–16—a passage that speaks so clearly about God’s intentional design.
It reminds us that God forms us carefully and purposefully, knitting us together with precision and love. That we are fearfully and wonderfully made, not accidentally assembled or loosely imagined. There is no other Vikki like me on this planet. Not one. That’s how intentional God is. Uniquely chosen. Uniquely made.
So when Emilie said, “She just looks like Sophia to me,” something clicked.
Of course she does.
Because there has never been—and never will be—another Sophia exactly like her. She doesn’t need to resemble anyone else to be worthy, to belong, or to be known. Whatever God has planned for her will be just as unique as the way she was created, shaped by a purpose meant only for her.
And maybe that’s the quiet lesson hidden beneath all those well-meaning family comparisons. Before we rush to decide who someone looks like, before we search for reflections of ourselves in them, we should pause. Long enough to see them fully. Long enough to recognize that they don’t need to resemble anyone else to be complete.
Sometimes, the most beautiful thing we can say about a person is simply this:
They look like themselves. And that is all.
Faith Love n Joy 