Do I Dare To Be Beautiful?

27 Oct

The glory days.  Remember those?

Lately I have been remembering my glory days, which, I might add, the Lord did not see fit to inaugurate until I was 29.

At 29 I became beautiful. Not the “you’re beautiful” kind of beauty that really only friends and family, who know and love me, see even now. No. The Lord gave me, in those days, the kind of beauty that sparkled and glittered and caused strangers to take note.

How fondly I remember the cute little suits and matching heels, the purple eye shadow, and the green, and the blue (I loved the blue!), the long straight hair cut to flip up at the ends just so. I remember being slim. Walking Everywhere. Having a super hero’s confidence. And I remember, of course, the men.

Men who just seemed to be around. Men trying to engage my attention. Men giving me things–seats on the train, rides in their cars even to locations hours out of their way, access to restricted or overcrowded places, pastries-tea-double portions (gratis), flowers, etc. I remember learning to accept these kindnesses; to say, sincerely, “Thank you.”  I learned, also, that beauty is an alternative currency, like gold or coupons, and that it is accepted everywhere, though at varying rates of exchange.

I remember captivating. And then being held captive by my own heart. And then fearing. How I remember fear. Fearing men, myself, and, most especially, my beauty. Being beautiful would lead to my ruination, insisted an insidious whisper.

So, without intending to, I moved away from the place where I became beautiful. I bought a car and walked no more. I cut my hair and put away my eyeshadow. And I ate. Bye-bye beautiful.

And in this place I have lived ever since, Ichabod.


Lately fear has been giving way to faith. I have named my fears out loud and I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

Lately I have been remembering the glory days.  Remembering the glory of God in my life, and pining for it.  I don’t want to live in Ichabod anymore.

I want to be beautiful.  A planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor. Yes. I do.

So let the journey to splendor begin.


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