I had to go to the worship team sound check in 20 minutes. This morning was the second day of the Women’s conference. On the final mirror inspection, I still felt vulnerable. I checked to make sure all the tags had been clipped from my new shirt, and I studied my jeans again, were they hipster of hobo? The pressure was building inside as I reminded myself to take a deep breath.
Every criticism another woman has ever spoken over me flashed through my mind. I deeply wanted to be rewarded that morning with the spontaneous hug-greeting and the “Wow aren’t you cute,” comment. I wanted to belong.
At least I thought I did until Angry Mama came to the surface. Dianne, you best be lookin’ at Jesus a lot more than you are lookin’ at yourself! You know what that’s called, don’t you? Vainglory, if you take that vein it will lead straight to the comparison game. Besides isn’t this a ministry thing? What are you doing taking the focus off of God and unto yourself?”
Frustrated with the Angry Mama I said to the mirror, “Well I am not Amish! And I’m not a 20-year-old, so I have to work harder on being beautiful.”
She just shook her head slowly and paused, “Dianne, there ain’t a woman you could meet today that is going to come to Jesus because of your outfit, your hairstyle, or the bag you carry. Beauty better not just be skin deep!
The statement hung in the air.
“Do you think Jesus is beautiful?” Angry Mama probed.
I thought for a moment and concluded, “Yes.”
Not satisfied with my answer she pressed further, leaning into the mirror staring at me with intense brown eyes, "Have you seen Him, Is he all GQ?”
“No,” I said annoyed, “Of course not.”
“Really?” she said, “So why are you trying to look perfect? Are you drawing people to God or to yourself?”
“But I want to look nice,” I said defensively. Flipping my hair upside down one more time with a mist of hairspray. I left the bathroom and the Angry Mama voice.
Arriving just under 5 minutes early I scrambled to get ready for the sound check. Everyone was tired because it was early on Saturday morning. We all complimented each other on our outfits and tried to review the songs in the shortened technical rehearsal time. After leading the worship set for the first session that morning I took a break. I was feeling a little lonely and disconnected as I decided to make my way toward the bathrooms. Turning to my right I saw her approaching. With a big smile she said, “I heard you sing and was hoping to meet you, could you pray for me?”
What she didn’t know is that I needed to have an opportunity like this. I needed to know that I was making an impact on someone’s life. Sometimes singing on stage feels like all smoke and lights, and no personal connection. Joy filled my heart, as we found a place to pray in the lobby.
For the next 30 minutes, she poured out her concerns and together we lifted her requests to God. It almost seemed as if one layer of burden was removed only to reveal an even deeper more painful layer. Tears fell with no Kleenex in sight.
I read Isaiah 61:3, The Spirit of the Lord is upon me…to provide for those who grieve in Zion, to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
When I mentioned beauty, fresh tears came to her eyes. After sharing the many hardships of her story she added this one detail.
“I have never thought I was beautiful,” she shared brokenly through the tears.
No matter how many times she heard someone else say “you are beautiful” she felt like it was impossible to believe it.
In that moment I realized that beauty better not be just skin deep. It seemed silly to think with all the details of her story that a nice make-up job or new hairstyle could heal the brokenness to her identity years of hurt had eroded. My eyes studied the simplicity of her beauty. Hers was a tenderness of heart.
So I began to pray again. This time, we prayed her through each stage of her life and declared, in Psalm 139:14 it says, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” The tears began to recede as the peace came.
She turned to me and thanked me for praying,
“There was just something about you that made me risk reaching out.”
I explained, it is the essence of Jesus. Every believer has it, the light, shining through human flesh and blood. Looking directly at her, I said, “You have it too.”
Jesus paid it all for us. In Isaiah 52:14 scripture foretells the abuse Jesus would take for us to have beauty instead of ashes: “his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any human being and his form marred beyond human likeness.” He made a new way through the cross for us to find our identity in him, our beauty in him.
Beauty is an essence thing. It goes beyond the outward. It actually flows from the inward. I shared with her when a person stops to say “You are beautiful” That individual is sensing the fragrance of who God designed you to be, fearfully and wonderfully made. When we look in the mirror we need to praise him for the image we see. Maybe you don’t like your arms, or maybe it is your nose. Maybe it is the spider veins on your legs. Regardless of the flaw you see, look at yourself in the mirror and put on the Angry Mama voice. Tell that reflection of yours, how fearfully and wonderfully made she is: arms, nose, legs and all.
Before we parted for the next session we gave each other a big hug. Even at a women’s conference, we can be afraid to reach out to one another. We can literally be bumping into each other and still hide behind a practiced smile. I am thankful to God for that moment of connection. I needed to hear my new friend’s story, I needed to believe with her that God wasn’t through with her yet. I needed to know just as much as she did that beauty is not just skin-deep.
Beautiful. Just like you.
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