So, being beautiful is an idol of mine... I really want to be beautiful. Not from the inside out. Not beautiful for my size. Just beautiful. I want to walk down the street and have people turn their heads to take a double look.
It is shameful. It is sad.
Recently I was tootling around with someone like this. A friend who is really, really beautiful. And I was miserable the whole time. I am an over sized oaf I kept thinking. I was embarrassed about my hair, my short eyelashes, my clunky huge shoes that cover my huge super ugly feet... I was embarrassed about my plain wardrobe and how I tried to compensate my insecurities with a little too much eye liner and earrings that are a little too flashy.
I don't know how to fix this... I don't want to go in the realm of God Thinks Your Beautiful, because a) He says that the best things about me are that-time-of-the-month paraphernalia and b) the only reason I am beautiful is because I've been washed by His Son's death on the cross.
So left right here, maybe I should just cover up all the mirrors... or better yet, use a sledge hammer and shatter the glass.
All this was rattling around when I saw this interview with Dustin Hoffman. I have never seen the movie... and I don't know anything about Mr. Hoffman, but this interview made me cry.
The shame. The sadness.
And I wonder if it changed him for real. I mean, the next time he was on a flight, did he treat the tall, size 2, lovely stewardess the same way he treated the one that was more short, more plump, more homely?
But, that in the end is not going to be enough, is it? There's always going to be someone more. Someone more interesting. More talented. More experienced. More better than me.
And if I don't stop comparing, it's going to break my heart.
Unless my heart stops caring about what I look like - or even who I am... I need my eyes and my heart to start looking at something else. I want to every-day-every-moment look at something else.
I wish I had not spent my time with my beautiful friend moping about how ugly I am... I wish I had spent the time praying for her and asking her Real Questions.
I wish I just wasn't so me-centered. I wish that a homeless person worried me more than chipped toenail polish. I wish that my weight wasn't my answer to If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? I wish that a bad hair day would not have more power over my emotions than God's Holy Word. I wish that the thousands of people who don't have shoes weighed heavier on my heart than me
And I'm stuck here once again. I feel hopeless. Really, really hopeless. And so I beg God and His Spirit to overwhelm me with the truth that He is growing me... He will grow me. I long for the day when I need nothing to tell me that I am beautiful... and I long even more for the day when it doesn't even cross my mind.
And maybe that will finally happen when I look at Jesus' face. I won't even care that He'll be looking at mine.