Crazy Beautiful

***By no stretch of the imagination could this post be considered original. I am not going to pretend for a second that I am the first woman in the world to fight the internal battle of beauty. Nor am I going to pretend that I have any new answers or insights that haven't been discovered by far more wise women far sooner in their lives. Rather, this is the post I make because I have had an epiphany, however small. Also, this is my blog and I can pretty much do what I want. :) :) :) ***


The other night I found myself having a little pity party over my face. My actual face. I did not feel beautiful, in any sense of the word. So my solution was to repeat the words "you are fearfully and wonderfully made." And yeah, I took it completely out of context, but that wasn't the point. The point was to repeat it long enough that my pity and self-loathing would trigger the tears I desperately wished to cry for my poor non-pretty self.

Little tip: You don't actually get to use God's word to throw yourself a cry-fest over how non-pretty you feel. Instead of tears and sadness, that little exercise in repetition had the opposite effect. The tears didn't come, but a sense of peace did. And then--and seriously let me tell you this actually concerned me for a moment--I started to believe what I was saying. To myself. In the middle of the night. Until I realized that God was probably smacking His forehead and muttering, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!!" Well. I never said I wasn't stubborn.

I have started a new battle in my heart this week---self image vs. God's image. What began as two ideas on complete opposite sides of the spectrum are beginning to mold themselves into a much healthier view. The battle sounds a little like this:

Me: I have really short legs. That are also kind of fat.
God: You are a really fast swimmer. Mostly 'cause of those legs.

Me: What's up with this "baby weight" four years later?
God: YOU CAN MAKE ACTUAL BABIES. You're welcome.

As I've been having this dialogue, it hasn't escaped my attention that when I focus on what is beautiful about me in God's eyes, it tends not to be the physical. It tends to be things like my compassion, my sense of humor (I am hilarious, in case you were wondering), my gifts...and well, my hair. I have seriously great hair. So I guess the physical gets thrown in a little bit. What has been missing this week is the "I am not pretty" dialogue. I look at my face and I see something slightly different than in weeks before. I see excitement for life. And passion for Christ (not necessarily in that order). I see my mother's lips and my daughter's round face. I see beauty in a way that cannot be created with make up or a skin care regimen. Even better, I am starting to really like this new idea of beautiful.

My mom avoided pictures while I was growing up in the same way I do now. I hate being in them, because a flash is really not all that forgiving. I have great parents and they did/do tell me I am beautiful. I just didn't believe them. We all came to know Christ as adults, including my parents. So the opinion that mattered for me growing up wasn't God's, and it wasn't even my parents. It was me, carefully cataloging all of my various faults and using superficial high school relationships to convince myself I was pretty. Things have changed a lot since I've gotten to know Jesus, but the beauty thing has been a real stickler. And even knowing what I know now, I fear that my daughter will see herself as she grows up the same way I did. I look at her and cannot believe how gorgeous she is. Beautiful smile, beautiful eyes, the cutest little nose...she is mesmerizing. It does not escape my attention that God sees me the same way. I am mesmerizing in His eyes.

God really doesn't appreciate me slamming his awesome creation. It would be like making a cake for your firstborn and hearing them say, "The frosting's a little lumpy and your penmanship could really use some work. But hey. You tried, right?" Not cool.

So let's explore that verse in its entirety for just a second. I left out a few key words.

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well."

Hmmm. I know that full well. After only a week of seeing myself through God's eyes, I can't really jump on the "full well" bandwagon yet. But. I am definitely getting there. The Pity Party That Wasn't has given me some great insight. Instead of asking God weird questions like, "Why do I have that one slightly googly eye?" I am working on acknowledging things like my infectious laugh and how expressive my eyes are. I won't pretend that my new found knowledge means that Hannah will never struggle with body image issues, but confidence doesn't come from Sephora. It comes from the knowledge that God knew exactly what he was doing when He created you. Fat legs and all, I am mesmerizing.