The Ugly Side of Beautiful

I can stand in front of a mirror and never truly see beautiful.  My eyes focus on all the flaws and imperfections; all the "I wish" and "how can I"s.  I only see what I want to be transformed from my perception of unattractive to my perception of what beautiful would like---if only......

I truly believe every woman is born with an innate desire to be found beautiful.  I believe it was placed within us for God Himself to validate with His unconditional love.  It then naturally moves into the desire for us as wives to be gained from our husbands.  We desperately want to be found beautiful by our man.  

Yet how often do we ever believe we are beautiful; even when we are told so?  By God or by our man?  We fill our heads with disclaimers and emphasize our flaws to rationalize how their words can't possibly be true.  We stamp out their utterances of beautiful with our bigger stamp of ugly.  We override any chance at being found beautiful with our own perceptions of messiness.  We are more comfortable believing satan's ugly lies than we are with believing in the beauty God created us to be.

What would happen if we dared to truly believe the words "You are beautiful"?  Would we feel vain? Feel like a fraud?  Be fearful of someone exposing us?  Become twisted up with comparison of different kinds of beauty?  satan can gain so much more ground if we stay stuck in the ugly.  

My struggle with beauty is becoming more and more real as my own daughter's struggle begins to bubble up to the surface.  Last year as a 5th grader her vocabulary was sprinkled with words such as diet, skinny, calories, exercise, fat, weight, scales, treadmill routines, bras, and jean size.  It shocked me and hurt me inside for her, but I did nothing but assure her she was "just right" and more beautiful than she could see with her own eyes.  (words I struggle to believe about myself, but expected her to easily embrace)

The summer provided reprieve from the daily focus and discussions among friends who were all conscience and processing the same things as pre-teen girls.  However, the summer also provided several months for these girls' bodies to change shape and mature.  The lovely "blessings" of hormones that just keep on giving for decades to come.

The night before Jillian's first day of middle school, she fussed and fidgeted and frowned and fretted over her back-to-school outfit.  Not so much about the outfit itself, but how she felt about herself in it.  (us Mamas go there too!)  Her body was changing and she was only seeing the changes in the mirror as ugly.  My Mama vision was blurry with tears as I saw the beautiful.  But she couldn't see it; she could only see the ugly side of beautiful.  Much the same way my man sees the beautiful in me that my own eyes can't see.

As Jillian reunited with classmates that first day of middle school, she was quickly reminded of how much emphasis is placed on outward appearances.  One friend announced her insecurity by blurting out she had gained weight over the summer.  Another friend countered with her own insecurity by stating that she had lost weight over the summer.  This Mama wanted to shout "you girls are in 6th grade!!!  You have no idea what FAT really looks like!  I can show you rolls and stretch marks and acne scars and wrinkles and........(gasp)cellulite!"

Its hard and messy trying to breathe the truth of beauty into your girl when you struggle to find a breath of it for yourself.  We are born yearning for beautiful, yet when our genuine beauty glows, we dismiss it and look to the world for validation.  The ugly side of beautiful is that we never give up the pursuit of trying to find beautiful; while deep inside, we never believe we will truly find it.  We think beautiful exists for everyone else but ourselves.

I wish I could close this blog with profound wisdom that has helped me overcome, but I can't.  I'm still knee deep in my own beauty battle and now have a daughter who has joined me on the front lines.  Because God designed us girls with the need to be found beautiful, and He Himself is the source of that treasure, I know where to find true beautiful.  Its the digesting it, the claiming it, and the living it that keeps us stuck on the ugly and messy side of beautiful.

Lord Jesus, remove the scales of ugly covering the eyes and hearts of your daughters, so that we may see the beautiful, believe the beautiful, and live the beautiful.  

"He takes great delight in you, He rejoices over you with singing!"  ~Zephaniah 3:17

I Hugged an Angel Today

Today, Mama went postal.  As hard as those words are to write, living them was one of the scariest Mama moments I have ever survived.  Even as I type, emotions and tears spill out from that place today.

We planned a fun trip to the Zoo for our Crazy 8 family, plus one more borrowed child.  We managed to successfully and smoothly ride the Metro with 9 people, 3 strollers, and a slew of backpacks, from Shady Grove to Cleveland Park.  And then my world stopped in the blink of an eye.

The Metro doors opened at our Cleveland Park destination and Jillian pushed Emily in the stroller out the door onto the Metro platform.  In a matter of 3 seconds, before anyone else could exit the Metro car, the doors closed--separating Mama from 2 of her peeps.

Willie tried physically re-opening the doors, but to no avail.  As the Metro train pulled away from the station, leaving my daughter and foster child stranded all alone on the platform, this Mama screamed and banged on the doors with all her might.  Mamas' don't go down without a hell of a fight.  That crushing feeling that there was nothing I could do consumed me.  I crumbled to the floor and prayed.

Willie got on the emergency intercom and tried to explain the situation to the driver, but the Metro continued rolling along taking me further from my children; all alone and scared.  In the panic of the moment as the doors closed between Jillian and the rest of us, Willie remembered making eye contact with a woman already on the platform near Jillian.  This was our angel.

At the next station, our family exited the Metro car where God had placed a Metro employee directly in our path.  He called back to Cleveland Park and alerted the staff of our stranded children.  In the rush of this action, my phone received a text:  an unknown number---"Hi, I'm with Jillian.  Give me a call when you get off the train."  I cannot put into words the peace that rushed over this Mama's heart like a healing salve.  God had heard our prayers and sent an angel to stand guard over Jillian and Emily until we could get to them.

In what seemed like forever to this Mama, our family circled back to the Metro exit and rushed off the train.  Flying strollers and escalator frenzy, we were reunited with our girls.  Mama's hugs were deep and full of heart.  But my eyes searched the platform for our angel.  I didn't know what she looked like, but when I saw her I knew it was her.  I walked over to this complete stranger and embraced her in a bear hug of gratitude with tears of indebtedness streaming down my face.  When the hug was over, we were both crying and her words were:  "I would never have left them."  She simply repeated this phrase over and over again.  One mama to another.  One stranger to another.  One angel to rescue His children.

 As I still feel like an emotional mess recalling what happened today and daring to imagine other ways the crisis could have unfolded, I am praising God tonight for the angel He sent to watch over all of us.  Amy Grant's song "Angels Watching Over Me" plays in my mind and heart........

Amy Grant "Angels Watching Over Me"

"Messy Mama, Reporting for Duty"

The messiest part of fostering children is navigating the minefield of each of their messes.  Each child is different.  Each story is different.  Each one carries a different brokenness, like a heavy piece of luggage, with them.  Each child bears scars;  some we know about, others we learn about, and others we will never know about.  

Their mess is their life.  They are very limited in what they can do about it.  Most just fight to survive their mess on a daily basis.  Meshing their messes with our messes (because we're all human) makes for one big minefield.  At any point in any day you can find yourself battling a full blown explosion.

Just like each child and each mess, each explosion is different with a variety of factors, causes, damage areas, and effects on others.   As the foster parent, it is your job to assess, act, stabilize, and secure the safety of everyone in your home at the time.  When needed, call for back up!

Our most recent crisis moment completely caught me off guard.  Did.....not......see.......it.....coming.  Before I knew it, we were smack dab in the thick of an all out escalated explosion of emotions.  That crazy minefield got us!  Dang it!  Why wasn't I more careful or more prepared?

I've spent the weekend beating myself up.  Actually, I've spent the weekend riding the pendulum---swinging between "beating myself up for allowing the explosion to happened" to "thank you Lord for revealing this danger sooner rather than later".  It's been a messy ride inside this heart.

When God sends a child to our home for us to love on and care for and represent Christ to, I don't want a Messy Mama reporting for duty.  But the reality is, perfection does not exist, therefore we are going to be messy and get messy.  Some days, more so than others.   You can't deal with an explosion of emotions in your home and not get messy.  And God knows that.  And God still asks you to report for duty.

We have no idea the why's or how's or what's next of this assignment, but we answered the call, I reported for duty as a Messy Mama, and we can rest assured that God is more than able to provide damage control in His perfect will.  We will continue to open our arms and home to the messes, baggage, brokenness, scars, and deep needs of those struggling just to survive their own lives.

Will we get messy?  Yes.  Will they get messy?  Yes.  Is this what God is calling us to do?  Yes.  Is this what children need from us?  Yes.  Nothing takes God by surprise, so I am a "Messy Mama, Reporting for Duty" and following God into battle; knowing He is fighting for us AND them.