It’s the foot stomping, soul-draining, toddler tantrum happening in my heart that makes me stop and take stock. I look around me, hoping no one else heard the whiny voice that bubbled up from my soul. This voice won’t be satisfied with reason. No haircut, compliment or new outfit will take the edge off this greedy hunger. It’s the black hole of desperation that helps me see it has nothing to do with beauty.
It’s fear talking, and behind the tirade, its whispering lies. “You’re not good enough, special enough, smart enough, skinny enough, stylish enough. Look around you. Has anyone noticed you today? I didn’t think so. . .”
In the echo of the ugly, I pause and listen. One of my favorite parts of experience (aka getting older) is knowing that the lies don’t have to own me. They don’t have to push me into chasing down false comfort. They do remind me to bow my head in silent momentary confession. “I’m so sorry that I was listening to that nasty little voice, Father.”
Finally I breathe in the truth. God made all beauty, and that creator is intimately at work inside of me. I am a vessel of unimaginable worth because of Him, and reflecting that value brings my heart true satisfaction. It’s the source of all that is good and lovely in my soul. As I care for my body, mind and spirit, I am free and I am loved because of him who lives in me.
“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing . . .to find the place where all the beauty comes from.” C.S. Lewis