How can I argue with the exceptional wisdom of Dr. Seuss?
"You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a slump.
And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done."
He says it all, there. What shall I call my current situation? A Slump, it's a Slump, I say! Do you ever have days when you look at yourself, at your life, and heave a disappointed sigh? You ask yourself questions, and you approve very little of how you respond to yourself. A struggle I've had all my life is that I want to believe the worst about myself. It's not silly, self-deprecating games, but deep, abiding, intimate self-hatred. I have pet hatreds. Some days, weeks, or months I hate one thing about myself, other times it's something new. The worst times are usually when the thing I hate most about myself is my self-hatred. On those days I don't know what to do or where to turn. I know that in Yahweh I have infinite peace and rest, but I convince myself that I don't want to soil His love with my filthiness. This, of course, couldn't be more wrong, which shoves me deeper into the pit of loathing.
Last night as I lay in bed, I looked out the window at the stars. They twinkled impishly, beckoning me to come twinkle with them. "Come Susanna, dance with us!" But I couldn't. I lay there and cried because I wanted to fly. I wanted to clamber out my window and soar up into the purple blackness and sparkle. This thought brought a new wave of pain as my Enemy whispered maliciously in my ear the lie that I cling to deep in the darkest place in my heart. "You have always been a worthless piece of *garbage*, and you always will be!" I thought to myself, "If that's true, then I can't sparkle anyway. I would just make the sky darker than it was before."
But even in these dark moments when I give myself over to bondage to lies and despair, hope abides. It twinkles like a star billions of miles away, but when I flee from bondage I'm immediately swept up in it. The twinkling becomes blinding, glorious and brilliant beams of immeasurable light. Christ is my hope, and he will never leave me or forsake me... even when I deserve to be left and forsaken.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Beauty: The Nebulous, Elusive Beast
Not being one to practice what I preach, I have once again neglected to write a blog post for ages. Telling myself that I have "better things to do" (which I do), I march on with my days wasting time with far more frivolous things such as television or browsing the internet aimlessly. I am currently reading a biography of Amy Wilson Carmichael written by Elisabeth Elliot, a small comfort that all my time isn't wasted. If anyone had better things to do than write, it was that magnificent woman. However, she made the time. She was "Amma" (from the Indian word "Ammal" for mother) to hundreds of children over the years, and sometimes all at once. She took responsibility for educating, disciplining, protecting, guiding, and seeking out children. She called them her Lotus Blossoms. The amount that I have been convicted by reading this book is enormous, and I hope desperately that God will steer my life in a direction that shapes me to be like him as he steered her.
On a different note, I have been pondering the issue of beauty quite persistently as of late, partly due to some wonderful and tough conversations I had with my fabulous cousin, M&M. What is beauty really? Is it quantifiable? Capable of being grasped and labeled accurately and consistently, perhaps? No, certainly not! If I am one day a mother to daughters how will I raise them to see beauty? How does God see it? He has plenty to say about charming and vain beauty, but if this is what beauty really is how can we also say God is beautiful, what he does is lovely, and his creation captivating? The "question of beauty" is nothing short of highly elusive at best. When I crawl reluctantly out of bed in the mornings and stare into the mirror as I brush my teeth, why am I so often disgusted at what the mirror shows me? Am I even beautiful? Do I dare defile the idea of beauty by tethering myself to it? "Beauty is on the inside, girls," Disney princesses sweetly remind us, with their tiny waists and perfect hair. I am far from becoming a feminist, but I am seeing more and more the mixed signals people, especially women, are getting from every direction about the question of beauty.
As M&M and several others pointed out, even the Dove beauty campaign in their desire to make a difference in the screwed up societal view of beauty, they have even equivocated slightly. Their main messages are essentially, "You are so much more beautiful than you think you are," or, "Find the physical things about yourself that you do like." While their intentions are starkly good and kind, the emphasis still lies with, "Your worth is tied to your beauty." Telling someone they are more beautiful than they think they are is a barely adhesive band-aid on the gaping flesh-wound of the issue. You are still telling them that if they're not, in fact, beautiful then no consolation can be offered. Phrases such as, "But, you are so smart and have a great personality (aside: Nail in the coffin, that one). You have so much to offer to the world," are people trying to excuse you for not meeting some nebulous standard of "attractiveness." I know that, as a girl, I have always, and I really mean always, struggled with how I look. It doesn't matter if I'm eating right and exercising, I never have a sense of being content just as I am at any given moment. Mirrors haunt and plague me, and some days I just plain avoid them, knowing I will be distraught by what I find hidden inside them. Why is this? Clearly it is more than nothing. This issue is tied to every area of my life. I believe, some days, that if I'm not prettier soon then none of the other dreams or pieces of my life will ever fit together. "No man will ever love me, certainly.." I tell myself. Dark voices of malice whisper, "If no man wants you, then you'll probably never be a mom. Not that you would want to bring up children with all of your insecurities hanging around." Throughout my life even people who care about me deeply have inadvertently told me that I'm good, but still not enough because of how I look.
This is all so horribly messed up! I am important! My life matters! My life has touched countless others, as I know their lives have touched mine. One thing is certain, Jesus didn't allow himself to be pinned to a cross of wood with 5-inch spikes through his wrists, go through Hell and emerge having defeated death because he thought I was attractive. How dare I reduce his sacrifice to that!? Jesus didn't save me because of his belief that one day I would actually be worth something. It's because of him that I have a purpose. It's because of his sacrifice that I have worth. He has made me a strong, intelligent, fun, kind, and basically cool person. I, Susanna, had nothing to do with all the awesome things about me, yet I want to take credit for them so often. Simultaneously, claiming my awesomeness as my own, I cling to a small pile of manure that I perceive to be important. "Jesus, I know you gave everything that I might have life, and life to the fullest, but while you're at it will you make me thinner and have better hair. You clearly made a few errors that last time you were forming me carefully and gently in my mother's womb. The warranty isn't up, is it? I have a short list of some adjustments I would like to be made to my body before eternity in perfection with you, if you don't mind..."
This is far from all my thoughts on this. I am so sorry it's all scattered and strewn about. I would love to get feedback from you all. If you think I'm stupid and delusional feel free to let me know, just try to be at least a little nice about it. If you agree or have thoughts to add PLEASE comment! You are all amazing and cool! Thanks for reading this. More to come...
The below pictures came up when I typed "beautiful girl" in Google images. I was just trying to see what the internet thinks about this issue. Haha!
On a different note, I have been pondering the issue of beauty quite persistently as of late, partly due to some wonderful and tough conversations I had with my fabulous cousin, M&M. What is beauty really? Is it quantifiable? Capable of being grasped and labeled accurately and consistently, perhaps? No, certainly not! If I am one day a mother to daughters how will I raise them to see beauty? How does God see it? He has plenty to say about charming and vain beauty, but if this is what beauty really is how can we also say God is beautiful, what he does is lovely, and his creation captivating? The "question of beauty" is nothing short of highly elusive at best. When I crawl reluctantly out of bed in the mornings and stare into the mirror as I brush my teeth, why am I so often disgusted at what the mirror shows me? Am I even beautiful? Do I dare defile the idea of beauty by tethering myself to it? "Beauty is on the inside, girls," Disney princesses sweetly remind us, with their tiny waists and perfect hair. I am far from becoming a feminist, but I am seeing more and more the mixed signals people, especially women, are getting from every direction about the question of beauty.
As M&M and several others pointed out, even the Dove beauty campaign in their desire to make a difference in the screwed up societal view of beauty, they have even equivocated slightly. Their main messages are essentially, "You are so much more beautiful than you think you are," or, "Find the physical things about yourself that you do like." While their intentions are starkly good and kind, the emphasis still lies with, "Your worth is tied to your beauty." Telling someone they are more beautiful than they think they are is a barely adhesive band-aid on the gaping flesh-wound of the issue. You are still telling them that if they're not, in fact, beautiful then no consolation can be offered. Phrases such as, "But, you are so smart and have a great personality (aside: Nail in the coffin, that one). You have so much to offer to the world," are people trying to excuse you for not meeting some nebulous standard of "attractiveness." I know that, as a girl, I have always, and I really mean always, struggled with how I look. It doesn't matter if I'm eating right and exercising, I never have a sense of being content just as I am at any given moment. Mirrors haunt and plague me, and some days I just plain avoid them, knowing I will be distraught by what I find hidden inside them. Why is this? Clearly it is more than nothing. This issue is tied to every area of my life. I believe, some days, that if I'm not prettier soon then none of the other dreams or pieces of my life will ever fit together. "No man will ever love me, certainly.." I tell myself. Dark voices of malice whisper, "If no man wants you, then you'll probably never be a mom. Not that you would want to bring up children with all of your insecurities hanging around." Throughout my life even people who care about me deeply have inadvertently told me that I'm good, but still not enough because of how I look.
This is all so horribly messed up! I am important! My life matters! My life has touched countless others, as I know their lives have touched mine. One thing is certain, Jesus didn't allow himself to be pinned to a cross of wood with 5-inch spikes through his wrists, go through Hell and emerge having defeated death because he thought I was attractive. How dare I reduce his sacrifice to that!? Jesus didn't save me because of his belief that one day I would actually be worth something. It's because of him that I have a purpose. It's because of his sacrifice that I have worth. He has made me a strong, intelligent, fun, kind, and basically cool person. I, Susanna, had nothing to do with all the awesome things about me, yet I want to take credit for them so often. Simultaneously, claiming my awesomeness as my own, I cling to a small pile of manure that I perceive to be important. "Jesus, I know you gave everything that I might have life, and life to the fullest, but while you're at it will you make me thinner and have better hair. You clearly made a few errors that last time you were forming me carefully and gently in my mother's womb. The warranty isn't up, is it? I have a short list of some adjustments I would like to be made to my body before eternity in perfection with you, if you don't mind..."
This is far from all my thoughts on this. I am so sorry it's all scattered and strewn about. I would love to get feedback from you all. If you think I'm stupid and delusional feel free to let me know, just try to be at least a little nice about it. If you agree or have thoughts to add PLEASE comment! You are all amazing and cool! Thanks for reading this. More to come...
The below pictures came up when I typed "beautiful girl" in Google images. I was just trying to see what the internet thinks about this issue. Haha!
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