If you watch any TV at all, you see the ads that focus on perfect looks. If you have psoriasis you can’t possibly go out in public. If you have a date, your teeth have to be frighteningly white. And don’t get me started on grey hair and pimples. These ads create a culture of perfection that most of us cannot even begin to attain, as if our outward appearance is where we find our worth and purpose.
Recently, I found myself in the local GNC, holding a $250 “miracle” pill in my hand. This pill supposedly could take care of all my joint aches, give me energy and make my skin firmer and less wrinkled. I was also considering buying in to the latest diet fad to the tune of $200 a month. So for a mere $450 a month I could be skinny and wrinkle free with amazing energy. . . . I was definitely having a moment.
It’s not like me to obsess over things like weight and wrinkles. But for some reason, in this season, I felt old, tired, fat and unwanted. I was buying into the world’s ideal of beauty and worth; that youth and perfection are what’s beautiful and that is the only kind of beauty that makes us worthwhile.
I’m happy to say my moment was short lived and I am back to being perfectly fine with who I am today, a little fluffy, with wrinkles that show my age and a normal amount of energy. It’s not like I was ever that picture perfect, worlds view of beauty or even close anyway. I love to eat and I can never remember to put on sunscreen, so my current body is really no surprise.
I love that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am just sure that my love of food and especially sugar and chocolate is part of how I was made. He made me curious, passionate, optimistic and maybe a little bit crazy. He gave me a body that birthed 3 children, can run a marathon and dance with my grandkids. He gave me a desire to advocate for the aging, joy in my job and a love for reading. He made me a teensy bit stubborn and quite unorganized at times. I am also unreasonably proud of the fact that I can eat a Big Mac and large fry and almost immediately run 5 or so miles without any negative side effects. All of this is how he made me, precisely and uniquely.
No matter who we are, where we were born or who our family is – we are worthy because God made us in His image. Genesis 1:27 tells us, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” We know He is “abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” (Exodus 34:6) For me, I need to find my worth in sharing His love with others. When people think about who I am, I want them to say she loved; she loved much and she loved well, shining the light of Jesus through that love. That makes it about Him. So rather than be discouraged by those lines on my face; I hope I will hear my grandkids say, “She laughed so much she got wrinkles.” And just maybe my friends and family will say her hugs were the best, so soft and comfy.
