"If you could change one thing about you, what would it be?"
My response was immediate, because even though I'd never spoken it out loud the thought had come to my mind before. Maybe it had been a thought in my subconscious for quite some time, I don't really know.
"My ears. They're kind of big".
I wasn't angry about it, wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. It was just a fact, pure and simple. The more I thought about it though the more aware I became of them. I could accept my ears sure, but if I could change one thing about myself that would be it: I'd prefer smaller ears. It sure would make wearing headbands a lot easier.
***
It was a night of laughter, one filled with good food and authentic words. Sitting across from me she placed her arm on the table and leaned in.
"I used to think that being a godly woman meant being pristine and put together, that I had to be meek and gentle and smiley all the time. Over time I've realized what a facade that life is, that my true self is sarcastic some days and has meltdowns every now and then. I've learned that God doesn't want perfection; He wants realness".
I needed to hear those words, because sometimes I believe the lies.
The ones of shame and condemnation. The ones of fear and complacency. The ones that cripple me at my core and hold captive my very being. The ones that convince me that God requires anything of me other than what He only desires: my heart.
My intention. My motivation. My genuine self.
He takes me as I am: my good days and bad. The calm and the chaotic. He takes my stress and He takes my peace. He takes my ears and eyes, my legs and breasts. He takes my baby blue eyes and my slightly-larger-than-average ears. He takes my vocabulary and my silence, my feminist rants and my five year old giggles.
God takes all of me, because that's just the sort of God that He is.
He wants realness. God isn't afraid of our true selves, He isn't offended by what we bring to the table. He may cleanse us and restore us and change us from the inside out, but He isn't examining us up and down, requiring us to change this and alter that. God doesn't ask us to earn our love; He gives that out freely.
And when we come to Him freely, He teaches us how to better love.
God meets us where we're at. He's with us in the wilderness. Sitting amongst us while we cry. God is there in the messy, working through our tangled lives with fingers of grace. God is dancing beside us while we rejoice in thankfulness, because some days this life is really sweet. His love is all around, and absolutely nothing can change that. Not one single element of any sort can separate us from the love of God.
We can either move with it or move against it, either accept or reject the Presence.
I took a sip of coffee and thanked God for being with us, both me and my friend, as we were, in that moment.
***
The skies were gray and the day was chilly. My cheeks were red from being outside and I had rushed in to escape the wind's sting. Most days are makeup free and messy hair, but today was a different vibe. For whatever reason today felt important and bright, and so I'd worn my favorite blouse to express my ready-to-take-on-the-world attitude.
And, you know, because I liked it and all that jazz.
I sat down beside him and he spoke confidence to me: "Hey you dressed kind of up. I like it".
Instinctively flustered, my response was timid.
"Oh gosh thanks. I mean, I've got some important things happening today and I kind of was just feeling dressy, and I dunno I just felt like doing something differ-"
"Hey. You don't have to have a reason. You can dress cute just because you want to".
Oh. Right. I was still getting used to that idea, because our world tells us that we live and dress and speak and act for other people, that we have to fumble for excuses and stumble out words until we list out reasons for every single thing we do.
We're called to love each other. We're called to serve one another in mutual submission. Called to wash feet and wipe away tears and consider the needs of other people.
But like, it's okay to love yourself too.
So I held tight to that truth, shut up, and took the compliment. I'd worn the shirt because I had woken up wanting to move mountains after all, and my clothing choices that day were simply an expression of what I was feeling deep down inside.
And if you think about it, you can't love others well until you truly love yourself.
People that speak out confidence are the cream of the crop. Find yourself someone like that. Be someone like that, because we all need to hear it.
***
Lately I've been so overwhelmed with this truth: God loves us. If God accepts us as we are, why then would we not accept ourselves, too? If God looks at people of this earth and names us children, why would we not see ourselves as such? If God speaks peace into our lives, why would we not grasp that message of positive self-worth, that idea that we are all made to be like God because we are all important and valuable and absolutely fantastic?
We are made to love and be loved, and we need to tell ourselves this daily.
For one, it's healthy. Part of taking care of yourself, part of being a steward of the life that you have is to accept the truth of who you are: you are a person made for freedom. You are a person made for revival. You are a person made for beauty. Affirmation. Honesty. Realness.
You're a person made for peace.
Shalom, the Hebrew transliteration of the word "peace", is a concept that you are made to embrace. You're meant for the shalom life.
I'm a messy person, don't get me wrong. My life is full of failures and shortcomings, and some days all that holds me together is divine grace and lots of laughter. I'm certainly a sinful person, but I also know that I've got potential to be a faithful to God person, because He's made me for that life.
God has made me to live out love, and I cannot do that until I accept that He takes all parts of me.
God has made me to be more like Him, and I cannot become more like Jesus until I give all of myself to Jesus.
Until I accept that He looks at me and calls me daughter. Until I understand that His view of me is a healthy and uplifting one. Until I grasp that His love is so captivating, so ridiculously relentless that absolutely no fear can remain within me as a person, because His love is what makes me strong and confident.
He makes me bold. He makes me fearless. God is who affirms me and He will never stop speaking life into my being.
His identity for me is a positive one, and so I need to see myself in a positive light.
And maybe you do too.
Lean in close, love, and I'll whisper to you my secret: you've got to make shalom with yourself.
***
A friend recently asked me what I thought about selfie-culture, and since our conversation I've been thinking on it a lot. Cameras used to freak me out; I've never been one to enjoy the spotlight. Many might have seen this as coming from a place of humility, but if we're being real my timidness always stemmed from a place of insecurity. Body image has never been an intense struggle, but I think over the years I've had to certainly be intentional with choosing to believe truth about who I am. Our world screams at us to be so much and so little. It's a wonder we don't all go crazy from it all.
Too skinny. Too fat. Too smart. Not intelligent enough. Too loud. Too shy. Out of shape and way too built. She's an undisciplined mother and he's not a committed enough father. Their children are out of control and those people over there are just too weird. He can't join our conversation and she can't sit with us at lunch. Change, change, change because no one is ever good enough.
Maybe some of us hate the spotlight for fear of being scrutinized. Perhaps we've been told our bodies are shameful. Maybe we've been told that our preferences are wrong or that our abilities are stupid. Maybe we've been lied to so much that we're embarrassed to be genuine. Maybe we've been condemned, because people are just sort of mean some days and ouch that really hurts.
Many of us don't feel adequate. We think we aren't enough. We're constantly trying to be better in the ways that don't matter or forever striving to check off the list of what it looks like to be a godly man or woman. PERFECTION, we shout, because that must be what Jesus desires.
We need to cease striving, look at ourselves in the mirror (quite literally), and rest in the presence of shalom.
Over the past few years I've come to deeply appreciate selfies. Sure, they can be abused and overdone or from a narcissistic place, but that's not the same as taking a photo of yourself from an affirming place.
Being cocky is not the same as being confident.
And there is absolutely nothing sinful in standing firm in who you are, in being secure that you are loved.
That you are enough.
So I pose you a challenge, which I've never done before in a post. Take a selfie, with or without makeup on. Hair done or not. Take a picture of yourself looking however you want to look. Wear what you would like and snap that light bright, because you're such a stellar vision.
Come up with ten, or however many you'd like, truths about yourself. Write them down or paint them pretty. Sing them or speak them or think them to yourself. Accept who you are, and grasp that God accepts those parts of you, too.
And for heaven's sake, stop comparing yourself to those around you.
There's power in being you, and being you bravely.
Perhaps you're tall, maybe you're short. You may be curvy or lanky, fleshy or bone and marrow. You could have a calm spirit or a sarcastic tone. You may be full of words or often lost in thought. Your eyes might be green or your hair could be purple (mine once was). You may like your freckles or hate your zits or wish you didn't have glasses or rock your bold brows. You may like what you see or you really might not, but the truth is God sees you through a lens of grace.
You're a mosaic. You're a beaut. You're empowering and beautiful and courageous and free. You are loved, and you're worth it. You're made for grand, magnificent, kingdom happenings.
I'll start us off. This is me, real and raw.
Engaging in full-on selfie shalom.
Wild-child hair.
Sorta lumpy nose.
Hints of rosacea and acne scars from back in the day.
Growing up terrifies me (I'm learning to be brave).
Trusting people does not come naturally.
I really just want fuzzy socks every year for Christmas.
Sometimes the feminist rants pour out, and that's okay.
My feelings run real deep; it's both a blessing and a curse.
I have a body all my own, and that's really cool.
Some days I'm a chaotic mess, and every now and then I'm seemingly put together.
God accepts me as is. He overrides shame and speaks shalom to my being.
Whispers "Child, you are loved".
"Now go do beautiful things with your empowered life".
