I'm pretty then.
When I'm not, I sense more and more that I'm really all just paint and lights, and I wonder how Adam finds me beautiful.
I see dark circles. I see spots, uneven skin and um... eyebrows that need plucking.
I see all that extra weight. I try very hard not to use a full length mirror.
My pastor keeps shoving a mirror in my face and won't take it away until I've said "I'm beautiful" enough times to convince him I mean it. Usually he does this after I've been crying for an hour
I'm not an attractive cry-er.
How do I take what I see and even it out to the way I feel? How do I acknowledge the beauty of me on the inside, when I don't think the outside agrees?
Beauty is only skin deep, but seriously... do we need an attractive pancreas?
God sees the inside. But he made the outside.
Not an experiment apparently.
Fearfully and wonderfully and deliberately made.
So... yeah. Dunno how to end this nice.
The preceding has been a 5 minute Friday post,
hosted by Lisa-Jo over at The Gypsy Mama.