Over the years I've struggled with that word, "Beautiful". I remember being young, maybe 9 or 10 on a trip in the car driving at night and wishing on stars from the backseat window. I remember wishing I would grow up to be beautiful. In high school, the way I dressed was a direct reflection of what I wanted, which was admiration. I was nominated for most beautiful three times. When I was 17, a lost boy took a part of me. Like a thief he ripped away part of my heart, my soul even, whatever was 'inside'. He forcefully took it as he harmed me in a way beyond any hurt I had ever encountered before, but would soon know was not the worst hurt I would ever endure. But the most confusing part of that particular ordeal is how during the whole thing, he kept telling me, over and over that I was beautiful. Then it seemed like a punishment, I somehow deserved it because of what he thought of my appearance, I somehow deserved it in my mind because I had tried so hard to be 'beautiful'. I used to put so much pressure on myself to achieve 'beauty'. It was in part, my identity. After that event, I remember giving up completely to be the opposite of 'beauty', later I would hide behind makeup, clothes, trying to hide the scars, most of which were only internal. I felt like before all of that I had somehow been something special, after that, I didn't know who I was. I was so confused. I didn't know how to get back what I thought I'd lost.
A couple of years ago I had a 'relapse' of sorts, with one too many 'triggers' taking my mind, body and heart backward ten years. I went into rehab, but also started counseling again. One of the things the counselor and I worked on was "EMDR". I won't try to explain it here, but it was a way to get into my subconscious, and it worked. During a few of our sessions I was able to see, more vividly than any dream, me sitting in the floor watching this little girl. She was dancing around, the most free I've ever seen anyone. She was so beautiful she glowed with light that seemed to be around her as she circled and flowed and danced happily in front of me. I wanted desperately to be that little girl. As we went on with the sessions, I realized that the little girl I was seeing, was in fact me. It started to unravel everything, every preconceived notion of myself...what I actually wanted was to be BEAUTIFUL the way God sees me. I don't want to be the thinnest, the best complexion, wear clothes that show my body, wear shoes that show my calves, cut my hair the way it is most appealing to men. I mean, I do those things, subconsciously even, as most women do. But what I want is to TRULY be like that girl I saw so clearly. I want to feel genuinely, innocently, abundantly free and beautiful.
I think the only way to be that way is to be truly HIS. I no longer want the world to see my shell and judge or measure me up. When they see me I want them to see Him. I want them to see the little girl dancing around and beaming with His heart. I no longer want to be ashamed of being beautiful, because beautiful will now have a different definition. I want to be washed clean again, rid of my past and all it's nasty thorny, hooking tentacles left as residual agony in my mind. I want to show them my integrity, my character, my heart for God which in effect is a heart for others. I want to glow! I want to exude His glory and mercy and grace. I want people to stand in awe when they look at me because they are seeing a true reflection of Him. I want them to be amazed.
I want to be restored in His beauty. It's time to start dancing.
Verse to Ponder: Psalm 139 13-16 (The Message) Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's womb. I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, The days of my life all prepared before I'd even lived one day.
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