This weekend I took my boys and went camping with my parents at a State Park on Puget Sound. The weather was quite hot for our area, so we spent a lot of time down on the water, paddling around in a rubber raft and a plastic kayak, and splashing ourselves with cold sea-water to cool down. Many on the beach normally plagued with self-consciousness must have tossed it off for the moment, favoring instead the comfort of swimsuits and trunks in which to revel and find relief in the refreshing green agua.
I enjoy observing people and their behavior in situations like this. It is intriguing to me to see the different choices people of all ages, ethnic backgrounds, and body sizes make when it comes to clothing, more precisely how much skin they are comfortable showing or willing to show in light of their physical condition, and to notice body language which suggests how people feel about themselves. Equally interesting to me is my own response, both thoughts and behavior. This time, like on so many other occasions in recent years (hooray!), I acted more according to what I wanted to do, within the context of what I now know and believe, rather than according to what I felt I should do based on fear [of rejection and ridicule] and self-persecution: Choosing to love and respect myself in spite of five or so extra pounds, I donned my modest one-piece bathing suit and let myself live (and lived to tell!)
Some of you readers might be wondering what the big deal is here. What great mental/emotional/spiritual triumph am I emphasizing?
Before I came to know the Lord in a meaningful way, and even for some time after, when I looked in the mirror I saw a beast. I saw too-straight, stringy, difficult, and boring hair; I saw close-set eyes that did not match in size; I saw a face that was too full, a forehead that was too high, a chin marred by a masculine Kirk Douglas cleft, and skin that was entirely too white; I saw a waist that was far too wide, a belly that was too rounded, and breasts that were too small; I saw too much hair on my arms that was too dark; my teeth embarrassed me; I even saw earlobes that were different from everyone else’s, it seemed, and so I hated that. And above all else, I saw fat--fat that I hated. It didn’t matter if it was three pounds or twenty pounds in excess of my "ideal," it was too much, it was disgusting, and it was totally unacceptable.
There were fleeting moments when I felt pretty...usually when I’d had a couple drinks or was high on some psychedelic drug. People could tell me I was beautiful all they wanted, but I just didn’t and couldn’t believe it.
Today I am near my goal weight, but seldom right at it and never under it. I’ve borne children and my body is definitely not modeling material, even though I am more physically fit perhaps than at any other time in my life, I never had the boob-job I dreamed about, never had plastic surgery on my eyes, never saved the money for the liposuction I thought would help flatten my stomach. I still have all the physical flaws I ever had. But when I look in the mirror today, I see a totally different image than the one I used to see. Today I see a beauty.
When I came into the Church in 1989, after a long time away, I was a bleach blonde with long nails, exotic make-up, and suggestive clothing. Thank God the people in that first congregation weren’t "religious, " but instead they loved me and embraced me. In fact, no one ever said a thing to me about the way I looked. I guess they knew I needed to be there and learn a few things for myself.
It’s not that there is anything intrinsically wrong with wearing make-up or nail polish or with coloring or perming your hair. That’s silly. What is wrong is when those measures are taken to create a facade--to, in effect, kill or hide the real person and erect a more visually appealing impostor in his or her place. When we ourselves place more importance on the "outer man" than on the "inner man," it is to the detriment of our spiritual selves, and it flies directly in the face of God’s Word.
I remember my wedding day vividly. At that time I was still a drug addict and my life was a thinly disguised ruin. With diligence I had dieted until I was quite skinny, my dress was stunning, I had gotten the fake-and-bake tan, my make-up was perfect, my nails were perfect, and my hair was like totally unreal. On the surface I looked good. There is no way I can accurately describe to you how miserable I felt, though, standing there at the altar next to my maid of honor and best friend Jennifer. Not only is she physically beautiful, but at the time, she represented almost everything I wanted but had given up or forfeited for my sick lifestyle. She was and is a beautiful person, inside and out. For the first time, I came face to face with what a shell of a person I had let myself become and the fact that I was a downright phony.
When I accepted Jesus and as I sat up under the good teaching of the Word, a lot of things in my life began to change. Outward changes were really a reflection of the changes going on inwardly. One visible change resulted from a new desire to find out what I was actually created to look like--I went back to my natural hair color. Next I cut my fingernails short and gave up the weekly 5 hours-plus ritual of filing and painting them. My mini skirts and short-shorts started collecting dust, and my spandex leggings once again became exercise attire rather than part of a party "get-up." I also found myself wearing less, and less cosmetics. At one time I’d been nicknamed the "Blonde Elvira" because of my bone structure and elaborate make-up, whereas today I can often be caught wearing no eyeshadow at all. It used to be that I had to recreate myself in order to be tolerable; now I can look at myself fresh out of the shower and like what I see.
Why?
Like most people, I grew up hearing the rhetoric that inner beauty is what really counts. Most of my life nothing in my experience really supported that fact, and my lifestyle reflected my disbelief.
There are two types of human beauty, physical beauty and spiritual beauty, the former being temporal and for most of life declining, and the latter being eternal and ever-improving. Part of my problem in my early years was my age. In the physical sense, age was on my side, but since spiritual beauty is developed over time and with effort, young people tend to be immature or undeveloped. This is particularly true for children who are raised in unspiritual homes, as I was, or who lack inwardly beautiful role models and a good moral foundation.
When Jesus came into my life, I began finally to purposely build some good character. The character I "borrowed" from morally upright parents had greatly dimmed as I embarked out into the world on my own and failed to adhere to a godly lifestyle or grow spiritually. I was a broken mess when I landed at the Lord’s feet, with little self-esteem, no dreams or vision, and only a feeble hope. But Jesus began touching me again and again, invisibly, with the deep soul-healing that only He can orchestrate. I began learning the Word through my gifted and anointed pastor and various evangelists and speakers, as well as from private time spent studying the Scriptures. There was a great clashing between my viewpoint and God’s. It’s funny how people who say of themselves, "I suffer from poor self-esteem," will nevertheless exalt their own reasonings and opinions above those of Almighty God. This is the pride of life, and it is an incredible deception. Fortunately, I chose to dismantle my own thoughts in favor of the Lord’s. A "renewed" mind destroys the devil's lies, which have affected even what we see. It is because I believe God’s Word that I am able to see what I see when I look at myself and feel what I feel about myself. With each passing year, my ability to see myself as God sees me gets stronger and sharper. And it’s not some game I play with myself. I actually do see and feel differently, though naturally speaking I am the same person with the same eyeballs and brain I’ve always had.
Now that I’ve naturalized and simplified my appearance, I no longer receive the numerous compliments I once did. It's not that I've let myself "go to pot," because I haven't--I guess I'm just not "glamorous" anymore. I don't dress or wear my makeup to draw a lot of attention anymore and my own idea of what is pretty has changed a lot. Those praises of days gone by used to be an important gauge of my self-worth. Yet instead of feeling bad about the loss of them, I’ve never felt more truly beautiful in my life! Sometimes when I’m getting ready in the morning, I stop and gaze in the mirror into my own eyes, and I am moved to tears and filled with intense gratitude, because I can "see" in their depths the work Jesus has done in me. My body hasn’t changed all that much, and my face hasn’t changed all that much, but I have changed. Thanks to the Holy Ghost, I live a beautiful life and I have become a beautiful person. I have eternal value, I am loved, and I am full of love!
Although I am by nature a loving person, the presence of the Spirit in me has greatly increased my capacity to love and the quality of that love. When I look at other people, sure I still notice their natural attributes, including the pimple, the big nose, and the excess fat. But when the goodness of God radiates out of them, my senses are easily overcome by the vast superiority and power of that kind of beauty. Inwardly beautiful people attract me and effortlessly win my admiration and respect. They are easy to love, and I want to be around people like that all the time. And I know that these same people have the same kind of regard for me. I make it my aim to only be concerned with the opinion of these and like-minded individuals, and of course with God’s opinion. If others can only love and respect me based upon my outward appearance, well what they think is really completely meaningless and irrelevant, so why care? I can’t even respect that kind of thinking anymore.
Does your self-concept line up with the Word of God? When you look in the mirror, what do you see--beauty or a beast?
G.D.
