Comfortable in Our Skin
Not long ago, I was standing beside my sister at the back of a crowded church. As we waited to enter, we couldn't help but observe the two older women standing in front of us. Their interactions suggested that they were good friends, maybe even sister themselves...familiar, warm, and close. We could't make out their whispers but I am sure their quiet conversation was somehow related to the funeral which was about to begin.
After a few minutes of watching them, my sister leaned to me and said something that has stuck with me ever since..."I love old women like them, they seem so comfortable in their skin." I don't think she realized the wisdom of her casual comment.
Those two women did seem comfortable in their skin. Their clean, bright faces were serene yet inviting. Their unashamed wrinkles unfolded the stories of their past, tales of sorrow and laughter. Thier graying hair covered them with the wise cap of many years. Their bodies, covered modestly yet tastefully, had probably borne and nursed many children, walked hundreds of miles, and cooked countless meals. They stood there together with an air of grace and contentment that is rare in so many women.
Those women were quite unlike the young girls and women of today, eating one meal a day in order to maintain a boyish sillhouette, hiding, pinning back and tucking away their wrinkles, squeezing into sizes too small for their womanly figures, trying to impress, outdo, and bedazzle others with their beauty and youthfulness. It is sad, really. How lasting and real true beauty is and how false and fleeting our society's cheap imitation is.
I hope that I can learn from women like them...that I can learn to adorn myself with the incorruptible beauty of the hidden person that comes only from prayer, love of God and beautification of one's spirit (1Peter 3:4).
May we all become a little more comfortable in our own skin.
Not long ago, I was standing beside my sister at the back of a crowded church. As we waited to enter, we couldn't help but observe the two older women standing in front of us. Their interactions suggested that they were good friends, maybe even sister themselves...familiar, warm, and close. We could't make out their whispers but I am sure their quiet conversation was somehow related to the funeral which was about to begin.
After a few minutes of watching them, my sister leaned to me and said something that has stuck with me ever since..."I love old women like them, they seem so comfortable in their skin." I don't think she realized the wisdom of her casual comment.
Those two women did seem comfortable in their skin. Their clean, bright faces were serene yet inviting. Their unashamed wrinkles unfolded the stories of their past, tales of sorrow and laughter. Thier graying hair covered them with the wise cap of many years. Their bodies, covered modestly yet tastefully, had probably borne and nursed many children, walked hundreds of miles, and cooked countless meals. They stood there together with an air of grace and contentment that is rare in so many women.
Those women were quite unlike the young girls and women of today, eating one meal a day in order to maintain a boyish sillhouette, hiding, pinning back and tucking away their wrinkles, squeezing into sizes too small for their womanly figures, trying to impress, outdo, and bedazzle others with their beauty and youthfulness. It is sad, really. How lasting and real true beauty is and how false and fleeting our society's cheap imitation is.
I hope that I can learn from women like them...that I can learn to adorn myself with the incorruptible beauty of the hidden person that comes only from prayer, love of God and beautification of one's spirit (1Peter 3:4).
May we all become a little more comfortable in our own skin.
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