(Alright. That's my one bad joke. I promise.)
Here's a good example though: on one of our routine 'stay at home - no plans' days a couple of weeks ago, I caught Elliott singing and dancing, which is common, but the difference came when she stopped suddenly, looked at me and said, "I sure don't feel pretty. Can I be pretty again?"
I can't describe the response that went through my head, because it was simultaneous and overwhelming, and I'm sure I'm not alone in this, parents. I wanted to grab her and shield her from even having that thought, irrational, but fierce. It ranged from confusion, a clench to the gut, then expletives forming a news ribbon running across my face, and finally the thoughts: Who said you weren't pretty? Why don't you feel pretty? You are beautiful! HOW do you know what pretty even is? You're THREE. I'll find out who told you this... a quick throat punch is in order.Thankfully, she had just been quoting the Sweet Pea Beauty Veggie Tale, which in retrospect, should have been the first conclusion drawn. But whoa. If that wasn't a taste of what 11 or 13 (or earlier? Scared face!) is going to look like... I may need to book myself a coincidentally timed 6-7 year cruise, if you know what I mean... ;) I commend anyone who has raised/is currently raising/will ever raise a teenager (and it's not just girls... aren't we all self-conscious?).
Also coincidentally in all of this, Nathan and I just got back from our trip to Los Angeles this week - an amazing trip, rounding out a lot of these ideas that sync up in my mind. L.A.: land of the sunny, rich, and beautiful, yeah?
Yeah.
I saw a lot of, what I assume the majority could agree upon calling, "physical 'beauty'" in CA; it makes sense. It's just... beauty is subjective. Especially physical beauty. And I'm quickly becoming convinced it's not all that important. And maybe I define physical "beauty" the way that I do, fishing from a stereotype bag, because that's the definition we've all been fed. While the people we saw were 'all' envy-inducing beautiful on the outside, I'm assuming (and really, when is assuming ever good...just saying...)... some of their insides were probably hollow (I won't say 'ugly' because only God knows the heart - and it's super harsh, especially operating off of an assumption). We're talking Beverly Hills, Hollywood, downtown L.A., where there are bright lights, Italian convertibles and billboards for Prada and Gucci everywhere, and you get the sneaking suspicion, no, you know, that these are not pipe dreams or luxuries, but afforded expectations.
Yeah, I was amazed. And jealous. And homesick for a place I didn't belong.
You can shine a diamond in front of an infant, and she'll clap her hands.
But.
Money is dirty; it cannot buy beauty. It can't ensure esteem or worth. Veneers do not cover true ugly; a tan won't make you fundamentally desirable. There is not enough money in the world or a creatively fabricated enough mask you can buy to hide or to change your insides.
The lies I tell myself are dirty; the idols I build in my mind are dirty. Believing "I" am the music "I" listen to, the hilarious shows "I" watch, the witty words "I" say, "my" friends, "my" family, "my" weight, "my" pants size... If "we" just make the gospel attractive enough, if slides, images, and flyers look like this and not like this, making this dang blog 'look cool', if "I" use this filter for my pictures, if "we" use this font instead of this, if "I" am just influential enough, If "I" am intelligent and pretty enough, they'll notice me... Guilty!
(More good, painful growth right here):
"I" am is the idol, while I AM is God, the creator of beauty. His Spirit watches from our insides, waiting patiently to actually identify us. To actually change us. To actually make us beautiful.
The Holy Spirit inside of me, inside of you, is attractive. The gospel being lived out through me, through you, is beautiful. Extenuating what flows unnaturally from me, from you, to me, to you, caught like unaware vessels, is attractive. Serving selflessly, is attractive. Dads who love their kids, who still date their wives. Loving sacrificially, living sacrificially. That's desire! That is passion! I can't help being attracted to and admiring and loving people who genuinely love God and His people, because that is the Spirit recognizing Himself in another filled shell, like 'Friend! I know you. Reach out to me!'
'How is it that you find beauty in everything?'
'I don’t. It’s God who sees beauty in everything. I just choose to agree with Him.'
- Sweet Pea Beauty