I struggle with the above statement. Even when I edit it, place my name where the "us" goes, and possibly add a few more words to enrich and emphasize, it is still difficult to embrace and accept it. Over this last week, I was very blessed to be able to go on a vacation trip to Jamaica. After looking at all the pictures, I began picking out the (minor) flaws that I saw. If only I could change _____, if only I could minimize or enhance _____, is what I thought to myself. And as much as I know we all go through this battle, I feel like I'm not happy anymore with how I look. I know that what I see and what others may see are completely different images, but the insecurities of how I look still haunt and tease me. When I see girls who are my height, and they are teeny-tiny, I wonder if I'll ever be as happy as them with my outward appearance. When I see girls picking out the cute bathing suits or tiny dresses that barely kiss every curve (or absence of curves) they may have, I still wish I could have the same experience. Even now, I can look down at my thighs and see disgusting red marks slashed across my skin, and a big, obvious band-aid above my right knee. This last Monday, I went horseback riding and the horse sent me through endless branches of bushes, trees, and whatnot, and caused a very large blister on my right side that had to be treated professionally. I can still feel the heat coming from the (hopefully not scars) marks on my legs. I can still see the several mosquito bites on my body that left a circular pink mark with a red dot in the middle. But through the constant picking at my body, staring at myself in the mirror, there is one story that comes to mind.
About 15 years ago, my former choir teacher at Council Road Baptist Church was in a car accident. She was bound to a wheelchair due to the severe injuries on her legs and arms. Everyone seemed to be pointing and staring, and making hateful remarks. After all of the whispers finally got to her, she went to church on a Saturday night. Unable to hide her marks, she decided to stay in the back and be out of the spotlight of others. A little girl came up to her and asked her what happened, and told her she was beautiful. The teacher said, "thank you, but these scars don't make me feel beautiful". The girl replied, "Jesus had scars, and he was still beautiful."
Coming from such an innocent age, I can't help but think that Jesus was talking through the little girl to my choir teacher. We all see scars, marks, something wrong, on our bodies and we want to criticize it, hope it goes away, or even do something drastic to make sure it goes away, but Jesus never chose this. He kept the spear mark in his side, the nail holes in his hands, to teach us a story of unconditional love and beauty. He taught us that inner beauty with the genuine and passion love for Christ is much more beautiful than what the world may slap in our faces. I remember Jamie... I can't think of her name, but she played the mom in "Freaky Friday" with Lindsay Lohan, but anyway, she did an article showing two "identical" pictures: one before she was airbrushed, and the other after. It's amazing how we think these people "naturally" look when they are really just subject to another computer program click to "erase away" the flaws that we see.
If Jesus would have done this, he wouldn't have been able to come back to earth and prove to everyone that He was the Mesiah, He was who He was. "Doubting" Thomas wouldn't have believed it, Mary wouldn't have believed it, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have believed it if I was there. Jesus loves us unconditionally, with all of the marks we can count on our bodies. For it is not outward beauty that defines us, but it is our inner beauty of love, patience, peace, kindness, goodness, selflessness, and self-control that make us perfect.
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