Why Every Girl Longs To Be Beautiful
I’d told her, too, of course, as I’d zipped up her brand new dress and watched her test out a few dance moves on her bedroom floor.
I’d smiled at her in the mirror as I’d wound her fine blonde hair around the steamy silver curling wand and listened to her chatter.
We’d wondered together if the D.J. at the Father-Daughter Dance would play her favorite song or if her classmates’ daddies would groove all night like hers.
But it was his words that had added a sparkle to her baby blues; his smile that had made her cheeks glow with ruddy radiance.
A mother may instruct her daughter in beauty, but it’s a father who calls it out.
When her Daddy said, “You’re beautiful,” Hannah had held her head a little higher. And she’d twirled like a princess in that sweet spring dress of hers.
When her Daddy said, “You’re beautiful,” my daughter had believed him.
Hannah waved happy from the window of her Daddy’s truck as they drove down the lane.
And from my post on the front step, I remembered how I’d felt when I’d first heard those words, too.
You’re beautiful.
I wasn’t wearing a fancy dress, just old pajamas covered in spit- up.
I wasn’t heading to a dance, I was just heading into another day with screaming toddlers and dirty dishes.
But His words had stirred something deep within me–
“You’re beautiful from head to toe, my dear love, beautiful beyond compare, absolutely flawless… you’re a secret garden, a private and pure fountain. Body and soul, you are paradise…” –Song of songs: 4:7,12, The Message
I’d scribbled that verse in my journal and read it over and over again, trying to believe that what my Father said was true.
I’d desperately wanted to be her, the one beautiful from head to toe.
And later that week when I’d gathered with other moms like me, our babies crawling at our feet while we poured over the scriptures together, I’d asked my friends what they thought about those crazy words that Beth Moore had written across the first page of our week’s lesson—
“Christ sees you as beautiful. I also believe this is how the enemy sees you. He just does not want you to know it. His job is to deceive us into believing we are so much less than we are. Why? Because he knows we’ll act like who we think we are.”
Some of those mamas had cried.
Others had laughed.
But, together, we had wondered if beauty is a choice rather than a hair-style; an act of faith, rather than a secret formula.
Those words had made me feel cheated and hopeful all at once.
And suddenly I was desperate to see myself through my Father’s eyes.
On the drive home from that Bible study, my baby squealing in the car seat behind me, my toddler screaming for lunch, this twenty-nine-year girl decided to believe her Father’s quiet words over the Enemy’s noisy lies.
And that was the day that everything began to change.
Oh, I still had stretch marks and extra skin.
I still had hair that wouldn’t grow silky long and bony legs that dangled skinny like a bird’s.
But my Daddy said I was beautiful.
And for some crazy reason, I chose to believe Him.
Even when the mirror mocked my faith.
Even when all I could see were dark circles under my eyes and blemishes on my chin.
Even when I couldn’t see what my Father claims to see.
Eleven years later, I’m still praying for courage to act like the woman that He says I am, because every day, the stakes are getting higher.
I have three little girls watching closely; three girls who will grow into women who desperately long to be beautiful.
More than anything, I want my daughters to take their Heavenly Father at His word, because beautiful women live beautiful lives.
So, while Hannah danced the night away with my handsome man, I stayed home and prayed that the gleam of love in her Daddy’s green eyes would point our daughter to the Love that will never let her down.
Because one day, my not-so-little girl will waltz out into the great big world on her own and learn those dance steps that God has created for her alone.
And when she does, I want her to know that she’s beautiful.
Still Counting…
1911. Hannah “practice dancing” in her bedroom
1912. My man dressed in his best to take out our girl.
1913. Kids rolling down the grass hill over and over again, laughter bouncing off the sky.
1914. A night of fun with our “adopted college daughter” and friend, blessed by her heart for Jesus.
1915. The roll of thunder at 1 A.M.; then the patter of spring rain.
1916. Blooms on the tree in our front yard!
Happily linking with Ann for multitude mondays, laura for playdates with God, Jen for soli deo gloria, and Jen at Rich Faith Rising, and Beth for Wedded Wednesday and Jennifer for Tell His Story
Thank you for sharing, my friend! So glad Hannah got to have such a special night with Daddy 🙂 That means it has been a year since we were at Beth Moore 🙂 Fun memories!!!!!
I just wish I could drill it into my dog not to chase fox scents! I’m left standing on the lane, blowing on the dog whistle in vain, until he decides to return. Doh, but he is a good bo38#&2y0; usually.
Lyli told me that I needed to read this — any way that you would be interested in sharing this for the “beheld series?”
I’m sending out this week’s T.R.U.S.T. question out early because I’ll be out of town tomorrow through Sunday. Feel free to send to your groups whenever is good for you!
My absolute favorite part is this: But, together, we had wondered if beauty is a choice rather than a hair-style; an act of faith, rather than a secret formula.
YEs — believing God is always a choice. Not just believing IN Him but believing that what He says is TRUTH.
I’m so glad I found my way hear! I’m so glad God brought me here today. I loved every word you shared.
A mother may instruct her daughter in beauty, but it’s a father who calls it out.
love that line, perfect, and perfect prose… beautiful heart splayed for us to see.
This post is beautiful in every way… Love the picture of your sweet girl with her handsome papa. Love how God spoke to you so clearly (Love Beth Moore studies!)… Love your heart, sweet lady.
I am always so encouraged when I visit your blog. 🙂 🙂 🙂
Oh, yes, she is the beautiful one! And so are you, Beloved :). Do you know, Breaking Free was the second Beth Moore study my group of Bible girls did and I still remember the profound impact it had on me. This lesson here? It’s still a hard one for this child of dysfunction. But oh, how it falls over me at the strangest times and I am overcome.
This is something I needed to be reminded of today. I wonder if we all struggle to believe those words – if we somehow think they apply to everyone else.
Thank you for this Alicia.
What a wonderful gift your husband has given your girl.
First of all, you have an amazing husband who sees that his daughter needs her father’s love and approval–who hungers to be affirmed on her beauty. And I’m so glad you highlighted that part of this post. But I’m also grateful for how you’ve given every woman/girl a gift–pointing to their Father’s love for them. Even if we don’t have a husband or father who affirms our beauty, we have our heavenly Father who sees it and wants us to claim it.
BTW, I LOVE that verse! I’ve read Song of Songs before but I don’t remember that verse! I’m going to snatch that one and place it somewhere prominent! Beautiful words, Alicia! Thanks so much for linking it to Wedded Wed, my friend!
“I’m still praying for courage to act like the woman that He says I am, because every day, the stakes are getting higher.” Such powerful words, to see myself the way Christ looks at me. It matters, it makes a difference in my life, my daughter’s life and the lives of others around me. Thank you for opening my closed eyes.
Blessings~
Shari
oh yes. Alicia, this just drips with security and promise. love the way you believe with your life. so glad to be your neighbor at Beth’s place.
WOW! Such a powerful lesson for me who has managed to believe the enemy for far too long (and I am 65)! I have been told I am beautiful and sometimes I believe it, but most of the time I see the tummy and think I am fat when I really am not. Sometimes, I see the wrinkles now and forget that my Father sees me as His creation. See, I lost my earthly daddy when I was 12, such a vulnerable time. I needed his hazel eyes looking at me straight and telling me I am beautiful, good enough, special. That Scripture from the Song of Solomon will be one I write in my journal and will spend time pondering. Thank you. You have touched me deeply this night. Caring through Christ, ~ linda