Sunday is the day I share a little of my soul. Enjoy.
It's been an interesting week of "reality check." The curse-gravity "when nobody is around" kind of week. I spent a few days struggling with body image. A few minutes moaning about my first few gray hairs. Then I got a grip. It was refreshing to hear someone say, "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. If they think you're gorgeous, great. If they think you're hideous great." It doesn't matter because in the end it's an opinion. Sigh... *opinion*. Opinion is based on someone else's reality. (Sticking out my tongue right now at someone else's opinion from earlier this week.) It's their point of view. Why do I care? Why does it matter? Is there an opinion that does matter? I think there is.
Do you ever wonder why it seems to be hard to define beauty? In the end, it won't matter how I looked on TV, or who I ever impressed. The only one who's opinion will matter, will be His. That being said...I'm so thankful that He's gentle, patient, and loving. I'm thankful that He sees in me beauty that I am sometimes unwilling to acknowledge. In fact, I think the day will come that He may look into the eyes of a lot of women who thought they were not worth anything and lift them high above the world. They will shine like the proverbial sun and the world will all at once see what real beauty is. I was always under the impression that it was boastful to say, "I'm beautiful." Yet, when I see a sunrise in a fire of crimson and gold across the sky I never flinch at saying in a breathless whisper over trembling lips, "It's beautiful." How much more has the Lord put into making each one of His children. How much more should I praise His handiwork, not in a spirit of pride, but in a spirit of utter thankfulness and gratitude at what He has given me. I can't remember the last time I had that breathless awe-struck reaction looking at myself in the mirror in the morning.
A friend once told me that it isn't anyone else's job to love me, it is my job. It is the hardest and most fulfilling work I can embark on...Can I? Can I love myself and see myself as He does? I hope so. I'm praying so. I'm begging Him to show me what He already sees. I'm going to stand on my roof and shout it to the morning sky, "I'm beautiful!"...If I don't fall off the roof in a beautiful display of grace and poise, you can count it as a great miracle. See, I'm giving you a glimpse of hope right there...
End note. Get a kleenex. This is an amazing song. You are beautiful...so am I. Beauty is indeed defined by the life you lead. Who do yo effect for good?
There you go.