My Own Skin
Recently our family went to the mall after a Saturday of chores and cleaning. I had worked all day in my pajamas, and it was well past dinner time. We were hungry, so I took a quick shower, foregoing the makeup and blow dry. I put a bit of curly stuff in my hair so as to tame the frizz, and we left the house within 15 minutes. My teen daughters had done each other’s hair and makeup and spent over an hour.
We ate a fast food meal at the food court, the girls choosing Subway–they always do. Mike and I had steamed veggies and shrimp over white rice from the Japanese place.
Not much of a shopper, I hardly ever make it to the mall anymore. I noted the new stores and asked what happened to the arcade that used to be where As Seen on TV is now.
Reagan said, “Mom. Mom. It’s been gone for years.” Her eyes glared sassily into mine as if to say, “Really?”
Life may be passing me by.
When we finished eating, Mike pulled out his phone and snapped pictures of happy sisters with soda cups and straws. They were up on Facebook in short order with people commenting on how beautiful they are. Reagan has re-discovered the beauty of her original, God -given smile, finally abandoning the duck pout. (Thank God for small maturities. Truly.)
Noelle offered to snap one of us. It, too, was on Facebook, in no time. Me–on Facebook with no makeup and drip dry hair, and I was pretty pleased after Mike added a filter and turned it black and white. Forty year old coffee-stained teeth are instantly white again; I can live with that. I realize I’m comfortable in my own skin. It only took forty-three years. So I changed my profile picture to the mall food court us – the one with the real me.
Just like Reagan, who has grown past duck face, I’m getting past the vanity, the preoccupation with looking my best, and being careful to always hide my imperfections. I still have crooked teeth and deep-set eyes with dark circles thanks to my mother’s genes, bequeathed to her by her father. I’m okay with that, because if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have made it to the mall with my family the other night. I’d have been in the bathroom trying to cover up the real me instead of enjoying every blessing from God.
So life may not be passing me by, after all.
I will give thanks to You, for … Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well (Psalm 139:14).
So, tell me, what part of fearfully and wonderfully made do you still struggle with?
I love this perspective you shared! I spent part of my weekend in pajamas, no makeup, no shower and …cleaning. But you have a good point. How many times do we miss out because we spend too much time primping instead of enjoying life and love.
And I think you look very cute in the photo with your husband.
Blessings and love,
Debbie
Wonderful post, bless you.
You are one brave soul. I tend to shy away from pictures often because I don’t trust that people are going to whittle out the unflattering ones. Then again, I am still learning that others don’t see us the same way we see ourselves.
I have small hairs on my neck that aren’t too visible but still THERE. I also have a lot of breakouts and it drives me insane. It’s not that God made me to look like a chocolate chip cookie, but I was made–that is what it comes down to. My identity is not composed of those things.