I have a confession to make: I am way too obsessed with how I look. I could spend hours in the "aisles of beauty" at Hudson's (I'm never going to get used to calling it Macy's). Always in search of the secret potion that is going to take years off and vanish the hundreds of brown spots I've managed to accumulate. I am always in awe of people that could care less what they look like. My daughter is like that. Even if the biggest "crush" of her life was dropping by for a visit, it wouldn't occur to her to primp for him. Even after my not too subtle suggestions, "Do you think you should change? Or maybe comb your hair? Put a little color in your cheeks?" And despite the terrrible example I've been, she still doesn't feel the need for any extra enhancements. Isn't that the best? I adore that quality about her. She is what she is. Love it, love it, love it!

Though I'm sometimes a little suspect of the penchant to pin all of our unattractive character traits on our upbringing, I have to admit my mom deserves at least some of the blame for my unhealthy obsession. Through some hideous stroke of fate, I wasn't born with curly hair. My dad had curls, my older brother had waves, my younger brother had beautiful ringlets, my mom had (and still does) a headful of gorgeous curls, but much to my mom's dismay, mine was straight. My mom, not being one to accept defeat easily, started making me wear curlers every night just as soon as I grew enough straight hair to wind around a curler. Though there were nights that I begged to go to bed without my "cur-wers," it was a rare night that Dippity-Do and "cur-wers" weren't part of our bedtime routine. If people got a gander at me after I'd been swimming they were shocked that I didn't actually have curly hair (a poser!). I'd overheard my mom tell people that I was "just as pretty on the inside" and that's what I felt like telling people when they looked at my pin straight hair so appallingly (or so it seemed). I didn't feel like I passed muster without curly hair. I wanted to say, "but...I'm still pretty on the inside."  Sadly, focusing on being "pretty on the inside" has not been a guiding principle in my life.

Not long ago, I needed to get my passport renewed. Knowing I was going to be looking at it for the next ten years, I made sure I got "dolled up" for the picture. Despite my efforts to the contrary, my picture was devastating. Good heavens! I'd aged thirty years! My mom (ever the comforter) said it's really no wonder because I'd been "put through the mill" these past ten years. Well, who knew "the mill" could wreak such havoc? While still at CVS (I would NOT recommend getting your passport pictures taken there), an insensitive beast of a man asked me what had caused my "grandson's" problems. At this point, I wanted to go sit in the car and have myself a good cry, but the hateful brute (the animosity was growing) kept asking question after question after question. Mind your own business, already!

I am disappointed that looking old and being mistaken for my son's grandmother derailed me like it did. I don't want to waste any precious time being caught up in the "things of this world" that are here for a moment and gone tomorrow. As I get older I am increasingly saddened (and feel sure God must be too) by my unhealthy fixation.

After Brett was born the apostle Paul's words, "perplexed but not in despair" often went through my mind (and still do). I didn't know the reference, context or any more of the passage than that. And yet...just those words were comforting to me. I had shared this once with my daughter Caitlin and, being the thoughtful sweetheart she is, she recently gave me a card with the whole passage written on it. I never realized it was from one of my most beloved chapters in the Bible (2 Cor. 4). One that I try to live by, to use to counteract what the world is constantly pushing: That unattainable perfect body, face, home etc. All these "things" that "so easily entangle" and hinder me from "running the race marked out for me", that keep me from "fixing my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of my faith." (Hebrews 12)

In my Bible 2 Corinthians 4 has a title: Treasures in Jars of Clay. A humble container to hold the greatest treasure ever given. "But we have this treasure in jars of clay [aging, deteriating receptacles]to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." Later in the chapter it says, "Though outwardly we are wasting away [sadly, we are all getting old], yet inwardly [this is the great part!] we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all [YES!]. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen [the outer shell, the sagging skin, the age spots etc.], but what is unseen [the ever renewing heart and mind!]. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." Another one of my favorite "Truth talking" chapters is Romans 8, Paul states here that our "present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." (v.18)

Does this mean that I'm going to stay away from the "aisles of beauty"? Probably not. Does it mean that my feelings won't be hurt when I'm 80 and someone thinks I'm 100? Probably not.
But it does bring me back to the fact that I am a work in progress and that I am blessed beyond measure to know where my true value lies. "Being confident in this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil. 1:6)