"Be kind to yourself," a message from a friend reminded me this morning. It was prophetic advice, and a surprisingly difficult task given my disposition. I often find that the Lord is kinder to me in his admonitions than I am in my self flattery. Take today, for example:
I had my postpartum follow up this morning, and everything went great. (Amazing doctor, great nurses, quick healing so far...) Everything was perfect, except of one thing: I got weighed, and I watched the number on display. My whole day, and my self esteem, took a nose dive after that point. (The number on the scale, unfortunately, hadn't done the same...) I've been telling myself for the past 7 weeks that I have turned a new page when it comes to that old self image nonsense with which I used to preoccupy myself; my reaction to seeing the number seems to suggest I've not come so far as I thought. In all honesty, it does still matter to me; my reaction to that arbitrary little electronic number simply proves the point. I spent most of the day in silence after my appointment ended, sulking about the fact that I'm not where I want to be, and somehow surprised to find my body is still retaining weight from what essentially amounts to half a pregnancy. Seriously? I'm not even up-to-par with the old me?! As I busied myself by concocting torture recipes to get to my target physique faster, the Lord busied Himself speaking over me words of rest, affirmation and hope:
It took several hours of quiet, (and encouragement from Sam, bless him,) for me to recognize the harshness of my own words against myself--thoughts that I know are not the Lord's thoughts towards me. The Lord says I am of worth simply because He created me. He says I am imperfect, but through His holiness I am made perfect. The Lord tells me my body is an instrument for worship, for service, and for sacrifice all for the glory of the One who created it. The Lord says my body is temporary in its present form but eternal in glory. The Lord tells me that I am His beloved, therefore I am stunning.
The world around me says something different, and for far too long I have bought into a false advertisement. I spent the better part of the day berating myself because of it: If I perform, it says, then I will be valued. If I conform, then I will be accepted. If I purchase, I will be beautiful. I can be the ideal, it tells me, if I work hard enough. The world tells me my objective is to reach the grave unmarred by signs of age, sacrifice, and blemish.
The truth is, I've invested in the worldy product. Without fail it's been leaving me frustrated, discouraged, weakened, and alone. All those years of comparing myself to any woman who's taller, thinner, more athletic, more fill-in-the-blank; it's all been a weapon in disguise, dividing me from companionship and distracting me from the One who deserves my awe. Rather than rejoicing in the goodness of God's diversity and creativity, I envy whoever it is whatever it is that I don't possess. I assign value from an imaginary scale and always use it to find fault in myself. Beauty, in the visible form, is an arrow aimed to the Creator of it, not the target. I've been marveling at the paintings but forgetting the artist. I've even been the painting hating that she's pink instead of blue, forgetting I didn't paint myself.
Although this subject is one I usually shy away from in conversation, I think the Lord wants me to share it here today. I know I'm not alone in this burden, and I'm here to remind you, as I have been reminded today, that we have a Beholder who calls us his bride and finds us forever lovely.
"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, "Your God reigns." Psalm 52:7