What if you were standing face to face with our heavenly Father and He said to you, “You are absolutely beautiful. I am filled with delight every time I look at you”? Would you smile in confident agreement or nod, bite your lip, and then frown as you think of your reflection in the mirror?
In junior high school I was—well—a nerd. From a Mennonite family, I was not allowed to wear cosmetics or jewelry and rarely cut my hair. We didn’t have much money so I wore homemade dresses or hand-me-downs hopelessly out of style. My white net prayer covering marked me as especially odd. As if that wasn’t enough, my eyes bulged behind thick eyeglasses from what I now believe was a thyroid condition. I earned the names, “four eyes,” “goon face,” and “ugly.” I could have blamed the bullying on typical teenage insecurity but the occasional derogatory remark came my way for years into my adult life. By the time I was in my twenties, I felt as if no intelligent man in his right mind could ever fall in love with me.
As Christian women, we know that it is the inner beauty of the heart that really matters. Yet it’s like we’re programmed to judge ourselves and others according to what the world wants: youth, thinness, the perfect figure, the right clothes, and a face that draws looks of admiration. So we strive to improve ourselves whether by updating our wardrobe, losing weight, applying makeup in the latest style, or taking a trip to the salon. There’s nothing wrong with such things but it’s our motivation that matters. Are we honoring ourselves as priceless daughters of the King of kings or worried about gaining the approval of people who view us through eyes clouded by the cataracts of their own sin?
Adam and Eve originally saw things through the eyes of innocence. One with their Creator, they enjoyed walking with Him through their beautiful, new world. Completely unconscious of self, they took no notice they were naked. Then they listened to a lie and sin and death shattered the peace and unconditional love they’d known. Self-focus became the driving force behind their choices, emotions, and judgments. They noticed their nakedness, and fear and inadequacy entered the picture. They began to measure themselves and others by what they could do or be apart from Father God. They placed undue value on outward appearances rather than the pure hearts God required.
It can be a confusing business. Although 1 Samuel 16:7 tells us the Lord looks on the heart and not on the outward appearance, some of the most famous heroes and heroines in the Bible–Joseph, Moses, Daniel, Sarah, Esther, David—are described as being strikingly handsome or so beautiful they attracted the attention of kings. Yet Isaiah 53, the greatest prophetic chapter about our Savior says, “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.” If Jesus, Son of God, the greatest hero of all time had a physical appearance that wouldn’t earn Him a second glance, who are we to put greater importance on outward beauty than God does?
Proverbs 31:30 says, “Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” 2 Corinthians 4:16 tells us that our bodies are dying but spiritually, we are being renewed every day. Yet often, we have a difficult time grasping these truths.
Max Lucado’s children’s book You Are Special tells of a world inhabited by wooden people called Wemmicks. Wemmicks are obsessed with decorating each other with stickers indicating their approval of disapproval. If one of them is especially beautiful or does something clever, she gets a gold star. If he fails, is clumsy, or plain, he earns a grey dot.
Punchinello is unsuccessful at all things important to Wemmicks and so he earns only grey dots. One day he meets Lucia. Neither dots nor stars stick to her and she doesn’t try to please the other Wemmicks. Yet she seems very happy. When Punchinello asks her how this can be, she tells him she makes regular visits to Eli, the woodcarver. He makes all the Wemmicks.
But rumors say that Eli is dangerous; he has sharp metal teeth, chisels, and hammers. But with Lucia’s encouragement, Punchinello overcomes his fears and goes to see Eli. He discovers the unconditional love and kindness of the woodcarver who never intended the Wemmicks to base their value on appearance and performance. Eli loves the Wemmicks just because he made them and they are his although they’d forgotten that truth. When a Wemmick comes to understand and trust the woodcarver’s love for him, the opinions of other Wemmicks don’t matter. As Eli explains, “The stars and dots only stick if you let them.”
In this battle to see ourselves as our Father in heaven does, we can find ourselves alternating between identifying with Punchinello and falling into the trap of judging others by their outward appearance. Both attitudes need to be discarded. God knows all our flaws, all our besetting sins, everything ugly and dark, but loves us anyway. He went to the greatest possible lengths to bring us back to Himself: the death of His only Son on the cross.
When we learn to trust His love and walk in intimacy with him, the world’s stars and dots no longer stick nor do we care. We know we are beautiful because we are made in God’s image as His precious daughters, accepted through His beloved Son, made blameless and righteous before Him in love. We have been bought with the greatest price and endowed with unshakeable significance, dignity, and confidence.
As James Jordan says, “God never made anything ugly . . . He thinks that I am beautiful and He thinks that you are too . . .God made you beautiful and if people can’t see it, it’s not your problem, it’s their problem.”