Courage...

I heard them arguing, the couple sitting next to us in the restaurant last night.  It pertained to finances and I watched her grow more and more agitated, her tone becoming harsher, her words more unkind as the conversation progressed. 

 

I saw his countenance fall, his face twist downward in anger as he closed his eyes and through clenched teeth asked, “What do you want me to do about it?”

My heart broke for them and I longed to take this woman aside, put my arm around her and share with her a quote that I had read the night before.

“When we’re scared, we’re scary.  So at your most fearful, you frighten the people around you.  They, in turn, react aggressively from their own fear.”

I too have felt scared lately, tied up in knots, unhappy, unsure.

“When we’re scared, we’re scary.”

   

I have seen this, I have felt it, and I don’t want it.  I don’t want to be scary.  I don’t want to bring out aggression and fear in others.  I want to speak peace.  I want to be the calm in the storm, the soft place to fall.  I want to be more like Him, my Savior.

I want to take the woman from the restaurant aside, put my arm around her and tell her that there’s a way to not be scared, there’s a way to not be scary—He is the way.

  

He is our peace, our calm in the storm, our soft place to fall.  He provides the courage when we want to be scared.  He provides the soft heart and the kind words when we want to be scary.

He can and He will rescue us.  He will help us rise up to be warrior women—women who provide strength to our homes, our children and our relationships—instead of tied up in knots, unhappy, unsure puddles of fear.

He can do it. 

 

But we have to ask.  We have to act.  And we have to believe.

It's a beautiful day...

Today I stared in the mirror and for the first time in my life I felt beautiful.  Sure I've had times in my life when I've thought, "Hey you're looking pretty cute today." But that thought is short lived, needing nothing more than something as simple as walking into a bathroom with florescent lights (you know those bathrooms) to poof me back into Cinderella (the rundown, overworked one).  But today... today I was truly beautiful.

Today I ached, sobbed and pleaded with my Father in Heaven to rescue me from the pain that has taken hold of my chest as of late.  I begged him--promising to do the work required--to help me feel like me again. Then I dried my tears and walked to the mirror where I planned to put on some makeup because I've felt like quite the shlump-a-dinka today.  But when I looked into the mirror I didn't see the 42 (almost 43) year old shlump I had seen only moments before, I saw a daughter of God looking not into a mirror but into the face of her Savior.  My face glowed and softened as I viewed it as if it were through His eyes.  I saw me as He sees me and it was a beauty incomprehensible to this fallen world--though it was still me, all 42 (almost 43) years of me.  An indescribable feeling of peace filled my whole soul as I stared at this woman, this follower of Christ in the mirror and I marveled, unable to look away, unwilling to leave that place of perfection so rare in this very imperfect world.

But I finally did pull myself away.  I pulled myself away that I might share this experience with any who see this.  That I might invite you to look into the mirror and imagine yourself looking into the face of your Savior.  Look at Him, imagine Him looking at you, and forget all of the lies this world would have you believe about yourself because to Him we are all exactly the same and we are all so very, very beautiful.