I don't like this woman that stares back at me in the mirror. This once-young body has been ravaged by the throes of motherhood--all those babies I grew and breastfed--and left a shell of skin that I don't recognize.
The once glowing, young face has been replaced by wrinkly skin that doesn't snap back into place when I smile or frown--the lines stay. The glow of youth now just ashen and sagging, my green having seen some pain through the years, peeking out. They've learned to not sparkle so much, their fierceness quieted by the hard lessons and harsh words.
My skin constantly breaks out, seemingly with no cure, and the scars bear the evidence that where beauty once so brilliant shown, now time has obviously marched right across my face and staked territory.
"Honey, time marches on, and eventually you realize it's marchin' across your face."
-Truvy--Steel Magnolias
I feel like I'm having a mid-life crisis and back in highschool all at the same time.
I've found it hard to come to grips with this, to like the skin I'm in, to be comfortable in it, and more than that, to believe what God says about me--that I'm fearfully and wonderfully made.
I remember Husband's words that women in today's culture seek to be sexy, but the most beautiful woman is a confident woman--a woman who can wear old jeans, pull her hair back in a pony-tail and laugh, and be happy with herself and her God.
I know he's right--I do, but I don't feel confident and I don't feel so wonderfully made when this body is decaying and falling apart.
Old habits die hard.
Growing up, I was always, always complimented on my outward beauty. It was the only thing I got noticed for, and was completely unaware why. I tried hard to fit in, to be apart, took a stab at jokes, tried to find a tight space in conversation to slip in a clever remark.
But I was made fun of and laughed at--this girl who looked out windows, closed eyes in blinding sun and day-dreamed too much and didn't get the dirty jokes--told that I was a dumb-blonde, that I was so out of it and air-headed.
I knew that they were joking, just having fun, but I was the butt of the joke, and it didn't feel like fun to me--I was the one who was paying the price for their fun. I felt deflated--worthless--nothing of value in my heart and mind. I'd look back out the window again and drift off some place where it didn't hurt as bad to be me.
As I grew taller and began to take shape--my face becoming that of a woman, my beauty was all anyone was interested in--I had nothing else to offer. I felt stupidly clumsy, falling all over myself in front of people, not knowing what to say. It was just easier to shut off and not be interested in meeting new people. I didn't understand this extreme social status game, me this bookish girl all in my own dream world, shyly preferring characters in stories to real people and the pain they inflicted.
Books were my closest friends. I would come home and run to the comfort of my bed where I would fling myself down and read for hours. I would look out the window at the dogwood and think of the nails that Jesus took for me, but unfortunately I did not know the grace that man came to give.
I was so empty.
This is where I took a turn down a long, dark path. This was just the beginning....
Dear, kind friends, this is only the beginning of the story--I apologize for leaving you hanging, but Emily {of Imperfect Prose} has asked me to share my anorexia story and I will be sharing that over at her eating disorder site next Monday. Please come back and read of my journey? It would be such an extravagant grace to have you back here then and if you would like, to follow me to her place to get the full story....
A little glimpse of the beauty to come and some encouragement for you today: .....
This is what God says about my beauty, about this frail, human body:
"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days you have ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you." Psalms 139:13-18
"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction in on her tongue. Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised."--Proverbs 31:25,26,30
Prayer:
God, I want real beauty. I want to be a servant with the worn spots of motherhood on me. Let me wear the work apron in place of fine jewels and instead of being obsessed with lashes lavished with makeup and with curling, let me have eyes that are a place of found grace when my kids have fallen into sin, not lingerie-store pushed up and out, but a soft breast for little ones to fall asleep on, and not a perfect hour-glass figure, but a wife and mother that prays on the hour for You to come love them through me, and not a mother who checks herself in the mirror, mumbling insults in front of little ears....{please come back for the rest next Mon? I will share details from my eating-disorder journey and encouragement on what God says about a woman's body vs. what our culture says--I promise it is freeing! He gives more grace, friends! Always more grace!}
Sharing with a trembling heart...hitting publish with shaky hands, and as Emily says, letting Jesus write through me...and counting, this week again, through all the hard times, with Ann.....
Gratitude:
#720 daughters and me doing exercise together everyday
#721 that they ask to do things with me
#722 Bella's pleading 4-yr-old-lisp request: "Pleasth, Mama, can I go with you? Pleasth??" and how even though I want time alone, I can't resist.
#723 me and Bella smelling the flowers together in the garden center at her prompting
#724 me taking girls out for the day to get my hair done--first time in a year {!} and to take the girls to a skating party--surviving social anxiety
#725 our whole family serving at our church this week--way out of our comfort zone--the beauty of giving versus receiving
#726 an unspoken hard eucharisteo
#727 sun in face, looking up at trees above, light dappled through leaves, tears brimming over, heart heavy and conversation just between my Father and me
#728 an impromtu supper picnic at the lake with friends--conversation, laughter, love, support
#729 my friend's wisdom and loving encouragement...how she grounds me
#730 our family making. it. early. for Sunday service!!
#731 a dear woman at church asking me to sit with her and discuss homeschooling--her husband divulging his concerns for his 12 yr old daughter--the wild grace that I could have anything to offer this family--only God, only God...
#732 that with all my shortcomings, that maybe God can still use me
#733 the opportunity to share my story--something I wasn't even aware that I needed to do until I was asked--that it will be healing for me and hopefully for others...
Friends, I would LOVE for you to leave your thoughts--your comments are so precious, and minister to my soul--I am probably in a corner of my home somewhere cleaning up potty-training baby girl's messes, sorting through laundry, helping my second grader sound out words, or talking with wonderful Husband over wine....I am sorry that I cannot answer every comment, but please let me know you were here, so I can stop by your place and leave some encouragement for you!
Shared with Ann in community at...
Emily...
L.L...
and Laura...
Jen...
Jennifer....
Michelle...
and Shanda...
