I have learned, strike that, I am learning to see myself as beautiful. If you struggle with this than you and I are kindred spirits… along with the eighty year old woman at Walgreens.

I was waiting at the make-up counter to pay for my Burt’s Bee’s lip color (The champagne tint if you’re curious. Seriously, it’s the best, or as my daughter would say “totally ham”).

I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the clerk and my unintroduced, but adorable silver haired friend.

She was inquiring about a good moisturizer, one that would help with fine lines and wrinkles.

Please do not judge me when I speak this truth: Our sweet little friend did not need to be concerned with fine lines.

Her “little” wrinkles were swallowed up by cavernous folds. How the hay could she even see the “fine lines”?!

But here’s the greater truth. Her creased face, twinkly eyes and charming smile were simply stunning. Seriously, friends…

She. Was. Beautiful.

Unfortunately, by the time I’d heard her third, self-deprecating remark it was clear she did not see herself that way.

I should have spent more time feeling bad for her. But I couldn’t. I was too distracted by the alarm that began pinging in my head as I came to a horrific realization—

If this 80 year old woman has not made peace with her appearance than that means I won’t either…EVER!

The revelation stunned me.

For some strange reason I’d always thought that someday I’d become a grown up and be content with how I looked. I guess I imagined I would wake up one day and be at peace with my shape (twig legs), my face (think Fred Astaire caricature), my whatever. The transparency in my silver-haired friend’s confession jolted me into reality.

How I see myself is a choice.

Here’s where it would be easy to interject some culturally accepted notion that we could blame social media. Not to mention, movies, magazines, and all those other mediums that flash airbrushed and digitally manipulated images.

To be sure, none of those things help. But can you honestly tell me that prehistoric woman #1 never looked at prehistoric woman #2 and thought “Wow. Her curves are nicer than mine”?

The root of the problem is a plain and simple lie. One that the enemy has continued to spread since the first day He uttered it in the garden.

“Did God really say…”

If Satan can get us to doubt how God sees us He’s won. But there’s good news.

We. Can. Learn.

The apostle Paul said it this way,

I am learning to see myself the way God does despite the “circumstances” of my physical shortcomings. When I immerse myself in the truth of how God sees me, He creates new thoughts in me, including new self-perception.

The metaphorical frame He’s given me lately is that of broken pottery. Kintsugi is a type of Japanese pottery in which broken pieces are fused back together with a valuable medium, usually it’s gold. (Kintsugi literally means golden joinery.)

I can think of no more valuable medium than the blood of Christ.  He loves to fuse back our broken pieces! You and I are broken but repaired. Beautiful, not in spite of our flaws, but because of them.

February is the month of love. I don’t know about you but most days it’s easier for me to show love to others than it is to show it to myself. If this is true for you, I’m going to ask you for a favor (or as my kids would say, “Would you do me a solid?”)

Make the decision to see yourself as He does.

He is enthralled  by your beauty.

You are His masterpiece.

He is wild about you.

Together we can learn and we can grow in the belief that the priceless medium that fuses our broken pieces———

Makes. Us. Beautiful.

Savoring the journey with you, 

Cindy