Two nights ago, I babysat a group of pre-teen girls who live just down the road. I always find it so interesting to gain insight into what goes through their impressionable minds. Usually, their insights are hilarious, soaked in fantastical naivety and strange observations of the world they live in. But, on this particular evening, I left with a heaviness, as opposed to the usual high-spirits I get from being around these funny little girls.
When I was their age, I remember spending evenings building blanket forts with my cousins, or making face masks out of ingredients I found in the kitchen cupboard with my best friend. And, most often, the evening ended with fits of giggles and dreaming about galloping horses through endless fields. Instead, I heard two young girls openly talk about the parts of their bodies that they hate. I witnessed them making lists of the 'pretty', 'skinny' girls in their class at school and saying how they wished they had their legs, or that they looked like them instead of themselves. I spent at least 20 minutes trying to convince them that God made no mistakes when creating them. That perfection doesn't lie in being "flawless", but in celebrating the bodies they have; by running, dancing and jumping because they can - because they are THAT blessed! What was even more sad to me was their reasons for wanting to look different. One being, their hopes of being models one day, or because they heard boys only like skinny girls. How bazaar that we think this way...
And it is 'we'. Because even though I felt saddened by the things they were saying...when I think about the things that run through my mind on a daily basis, I know that I am guilty of all the same thoughts. We compare ourselves to others, when we should be so elated by the fact that we are all so different and complex, and it is this that makes the world so beautiful. I found it so profound that just a few hours before going to look after these girls, I had decided to remove my scale from my bathroom and hide it in the back corner of a cupboard in another part of the house. So many times I have felt so great about being me, and I have felt so blessed with the body I have and the person I am, and then I step on that scale and think about how much I "should" weigh and how I "should" look, and suddenly I topple into a bottomless pit of self-loathing and feelings of worthlessness. When I hid that scale away I asked myself one question: "Who am I measuring myself up against?" Instead of my answer being 'the world' or some made-up model of "beauty", I chose Jesus.
Ezekiel 16:14 says: "And your fame spread across the nations on account of your beauty, because the splendor I HAD GIVEN YOU made your beauty PERFECT, declares the Sovereign Lord."
