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Image through a Christian!
By Marc | September 16, 2007
You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am wonderfully made. Psalm 139:13-14
My sixteen month old walked across the living room, lost in his world of constant exploration.
He didn’t notice me smiling at him.
He sauntered cautiously, raising one wobbly foot at a time. He stopped to pick up a plastc hanger. He looked mesmerized by it, as he walked, holding it in front of him then swinging it up and down, saying, "Uh oh. Uh oh." He stopped, looked at the hanger closely, turning it over in his hand, and then he dropped it on the floor, to head off to pick up his favorite book. He brought it to me to read to him. As I took the book he waved his hands up and down excitedly until I began to read. When the book was over, he was done, off to investigate a new object.
I watched him walk away, completely in love. I was in awe that God allowed me to be part of such a magnificent creation. An honor he allowed me not once, but twice. In my eyes I have two sons with two perfect bodies who my genes contributed to. I’m still amazed by it. More amazing, my sons don’t have any idea how beautiful they are. They’re too young. They haven’t become slaves to image like the rest of the world.
But someday, someone will tell them something about themselves that’s not true. Maybe they’ll be told their hair is the wrong color, or texture, or style. They may hear their eyes are the wrong shape, their ears stick out, their skin is too pale and they really should tan. They may be called fat, and told to diet. Or called skinny, and told to eat a sandwich. Whatever they hear may leave a deep scar that I may never know exists, because what scars our hearts can be easily hidden. They may beat themselves up, and determine to look and act in a certain way. They may abandon who they really are. As they knock themselves out to become someone different, someone they’re not, people may still tell them they’re not good enough. So, they’ll try harder and harder.
I pray they’ll find people who love them as they are, and they’ll learn what I already know: they are beautiful creatures from God.
Like the majority of people who inhale oxygen on a regular basis, I have scars of ‘not good enough’ on my heart as well. But today, watching my baby boy walk across the room I wondered, does God ever look at me, nudge Angel Gabriel, and say, "Isn’t she amazing! She’s so beautiful! And perfect exactly like I made her." I wonder, does He watch each of us, as we strive to maintain a look regulated by society and wonder why we bother?
Honestly, today most people wear a set style of clothes, and try to apply the right blend of makeup so it’ll appear we’re not wearing makeup at all. We’re sold clothes designed by people we’ve never met, worn in magazines by people we’ll never be, as the industry hopes we’ll only wear them for a season so they won’t see a drop in profits next year. If we don’t like something about ourselves, we alter it. Don’t like your hair, cut it, perm it, color it. Don’t like your nose, cut it open, get a new one. Not fond of your breasts, either reduce them or stuff ‘em new. People are getting more and more plastic, either in fake, rehearsed responses, or literally. Isn’t our striving to emulate other people proof of our need to be someone other then ourselves?
For today, forget all the voices you’ve told you you’re not good enough. Don’t listen when the media delves out a line of products telling you how much more beautiful you’ll be wearing them. Maybe every imperfection you believe you have, your Creator sees as one of His masterpieces. I marvel at my sons, and I was merely a cog in their creation. But your Father designed you. He chose how you would look, from the color of your eyes to the shape of your toes. And with God, we only get His best work! He holds nothing back from the children He loves. I will never believe He’s looked at one of us and said, ‘Oops! I designed him on an off day.’ God has no off days. If someone is telling you differently, it’s not from God. So maybe, after all our years listening to a fallen world tell us we’re not good enough, for today we can look in the mirror and hear His voice saying, "Wow. I knitted you together in your mother’s womb. And you grew to be even more beautiful." Maybe He’s waiting for you to look in the mirror and say, "I praise you, Lord, for I am wonderfully made." Is that what He hears? Or are we cursing Him for big hips and limp hair?
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