The king is enthralled by your beauty...

Ok, so I spoke on Sunday morning (which was so much fun!) about taking off our masks by including God's story in our story. But I realized that I never shared with you all what masks are or what my mask is...

You know.

That thing you wake up and put on in the morning so no one has a chance to see the bare naked you.

For some of us, the mask is humor, make up, girlfriends, boyfriends, sarcasm, clothes, and the list goes on and on.

Masks are anything we use to cover up our true identities. Anything that, when stripped off, we become vulnerable. exposed. petrified.

Because our masks are comfortable. We love them. We depend on them.

Our masks become our shield.

And when you think about shields, shields are meant for two things.

First, they are meant to protect. And, for me, I realized early on that one of my main masks was, indeed, make-up. So, for arguments sake, I am going to use this example. My make-up was a shield that protected me. I knew that make-up made me feel a certain way. I felt pretty. I knew how to apply it, had the right tools, felt comfortable. It protected me.


But shields are also used to hide behind. Now, in battle, that is a good thing. But, for me, I was hiding my true self behind make-up. And I didn't realize it until it was stripped from me. My junior year in college, I attended a chapel that challenged us to participate in the Lenten season and either fast from something or begin a new habit (i.e. quiet times, prayer, solitude, etc.). For a few days, I prayed wondering what I should focus on for 40 days. It became clear to me that the thing that would make me least comfortable would definitely be to pack up my make-up bag for 40 whole days. The thought alone scared me. Shook me.


Several thoughts ran through my head during that season:

Day 1: This isn't so hard. I could get used to this. 

Day 1 (a little later): Oh my gosh every other girl in this class is wearing make up right now and all of the boys probably think they are all so much prettier than me. Can these boys actually see my soul? (and I know that last line sounds dramatic, but that is literally how bare naked I felt)

Day 1 (even later): wait what if I get a zit? Can I wear cover-up? AH. I did not think of this. Maybe I won't make it. But if I don't make it, the people I told in order to keep me accountable would definitely know. I can do this. I can make it.

By day 20 or so, my thoughts started turning much more toward something like this:

Day 20ish: I am beautiful. I don't think I ever thought this when I spent 20 minutes in the morning putting make-up on.

Day 21ish: I don't think I will ever wear make-up again. 

Since that day, so long ago, I have gone back to wearing make-up (and am actually considering fasting from make up again for lent...which is rapidly approaching!...March 9th, people!). But I can tell you that the things I learned about myself were far more than I set out to learn.

I learned the value that I place on physical beauty over all else. And I learned how dangerous that mentality of thinking was. It acted like a poison to me. I learned that, what i meant to protect me, ended up blocking me from feeling joy. 

I am in a class right now that is unlocking so many passions that I never knew I cared so much about.  I just finished reading a book called Odd Girl Out, which focuses on hidden adolescent female aggression.  I am currently reading another book called, Ophelia Speaks, which is a sequel to Reviving Ophelia. This book is so powerful.  A girl who read Reviving Ophelia wanted to share her story and so compiled actual essays from teenage girls around the country and their experience during adolescents. Here are two of my favorite essays:

Searching through catalogs

you wish you could order

the bodies not the clothes.

By: Jessica Bulman, 17

That's all she wrote. One simple sentence. With such a profound message that is the heartbeat of too many adolescent girls (and many not-so-adolescent girls). 

How did every girl I grew up with 

learn to measure their merit

by the size of their skirt? 

By: Elizabeth Fales, 18

 This was my favorite sentence in a longer essay that summarized beautifully what this whole essay spoke about. 

I see my passions and what I am choosing to care about shift so much through this class and my internship site at church.  I am beginning (for the first time) to truly look at my junior high girls and look at my friends and even more painfully, myself, through the eyes of Christ, rather than the eyes of the media. And I see such beauty. But I see so much more pain. Especially in my friends. But I have been bombarded (and David Crowder's "How He Loves" just came on my ipod...i can't make this stuff up) with God's jealous love for me, his child.  Psalm 45:11 says, "Let the king be enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your Lord." 

So, my friends, Lent is coming up.  I challenge you to love yourselves, for 40 days. Turn off the media crap that boasts on facial and bodily beauty and believe the God of the universe when he tells you that you are beautiful. 

ps. i know i am speaking just as much to me as i am to you...