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.