Monday, January 12, 2015

Finding Security in Him

It is cold and gray and foggy and just depressing outside, and the only thing that brings me any excitement today is the fact that I have fresh coffee to look forward to. (Shut up. Totally. Addicted.) Which is brewing right now. Just the smell perks me up. (It's Monday, okay, so of course the only exciting thing that might happen today is coffee. Tuesday will be better.)

I desperately want to be a voice that speaks truths into the lives of the people who read the pages I spill my guts on, but mostly, I feel ill-equipped and largely unqualified for the job. Sometimes I sit here, wondering what I could possibly write that could uplift someone who is struggling with the same or similar issues, when I can't even seem to find solace anywhere but in the pages of the virtual bible I read daily. But my heart longs to connect with you, to encourage and uplift, to comfort others with the comfort I have been given over the years.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
{2 corinthians 1:3-4}

In my world (albeit a somewhat slanted, kooky world), somewhere, somehow, I learned that appearance equals self-worth. Some people don't struggle with this. I do. Some people struggle with this for the entirety of the time they are on this planet. Also me. Or has been thus far. The whole idea that one could possibly find any security in the ever-evolving world of beauty is a con game anyway, made up of a web of lies, keeping those of us who look at the pages of...well, pick a magazine, they're all the same, with their airbrushing and their Photoshopping and their pinching in here and there (and making things larger--ahem, Justin Bieber)...yes, keeping those of us who look at those pictures with a skewed perspective always reaching for a perfection that is just not attainable.

I noticed the other day that I am gaining, among other Things I'd Like to Not Gain (including weight, wrinkles, and age spots), a few (depends on your perspective, I say a few because I'd rather not acknowledge at the moment that a few quickly become more than a few) laugh lines around my eyes. Crow's feet, my mom called them. (I prefer laugh lines. At least it doesn't sound like a crow was walking around on your face.)  This causes me much consternation, especially in a day and age where laugh lines don't have to be gained at the young age of 37. (It doesn't help that Jennifer Lopez, at the age of 45, has no laugh lines that I can see. Of course, I've also never seen her close up, so what do I know about Jennifer Lopez or her laugh lines?)

I've learned that it doesn't matter how many people you compare yourself to, or how many compliments you get, it's never enough. Like a never-ending well, dropping wishes in the form of pennies in one at a time, never filling up. That's the cup we hold, asking others to fill it.

Until we turn to God.

Then that never-ending well becomes a spring of life, filling our soul with life water, with the promise that we will never thirst again. 

Now that's a pretty awesome promise.

It goes beyond finding self-worth through appearance, past finding security in the many, many things we search high and low for, above the substitutes and the imitations and the alternates for self-worth we so often accept as It.

Because we are finding security in Him.

The reason I ever starting writing.

Finding Security in Him.

So even when I take a few steps back, and I find myself backed into a corner of my own making, looking at JLo's wrinkles and my wrinkles and wondering if there is justice in the world...

...I can hold my head up high, knowing that I am a child of God. Loved. Redeemed. Forgiven. Free from the heavy yoke of Skinny or Pretty or I Must Be ____ to be worthy.

Secure in who I am because of Whose I am.

Finding Security. In Him.

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