Beauty

I sat at a table with four other women.
We were at the women’s social at our church.
It is an annual event.
I looked around the room and saw a hundred women enjoying food and fellowship.

We were blessed by a speaker whose honesty and transparency was so refreshing.
We were blessed as we joined in song.
We were blessed just by being together.
It was so apparent to me that we women need each other.

I was talking and listening to the women at my table.
I was talking with one woman who was sitting closer to me.
We each noticed that four of the five of us have allowed our hair to gray naturally.
Each shade of gray was different with none of us looking like the other.

She and I talked about society and its expectations for women.
She and I talked about how hard it must be for young women to navigate the culture.
Many young women try to meet society’s unreasonable standards.
They end up feeling like they can never measure up.

I told her that I have a heart for these young women.
I especially want to encourage young mothers.
I want them to know how special they are to God.
I want them to know that they are doing the most important job they can possibly do.

As we talked about gray hair, I confessed that I had done so much to my hair in high school.
I used Sun-In, which turned my hair a bit orange.
I used Quiet Touch, which required me to actually paint blondish highlights on my hair.
I even got body perms, which were very common then.

When I had my children, there just was not enough time to keep up with all that.
I remember when I saw the first bit of gray in my hair.
My husband had been away for a two week training conference for work.
I had two little girls under the age of three and we were selling our house.

I noticed what I called my skunk line.
It was a strip of gray right in front.
When your hair turns gray, and you do nothing about it, there is a point of no return.
It would have been obvious if I suddenly entered a room as a brunette like I had been before.

The woman and I laughed about all of this.
She began to tell me a story.
She was remembering two of her aunts.
She was remembering her mother.

I had two aunts who were knockouts, she began.
They were stylish and attractive, she described as she remembered them.
They were the epitome of attractiveness according to the world.
I thought my mother was prettier, she said.

You have to understand, my mother was much plainer.
My mother was taking care of a husband and children.
She was not as stylish as my aunts.
But to me, she was so beautiful.

I smiled at her as she told me the things she remembered.
She WAS prettier, I said never knowing the woman or what she looked like.
She WAS more beautiful, I told her.
You loved her, I added.

She looked at me as she pondered my words.
How true! She said.
It was the love I had for her and her for me that made her so beautiful.
There was no one more beautiful to me in the whole world, she declared.

She giggled.
It’s funny what you remember, she said.
I would sit with my grandmother and look at her white hair.
I wanted my hair to be just like hers.

I would look at her hands and want my hands to look like hers.
Her hands had so many veins that I used to trace with my fingers.
Her hands had brown spots on them.
I wanted hands like hers, she told me.

She thought for a minute.
It was because I loved her, she said remembering.
I wanted to be just like her.
She looked a bit wistful because of the things that were coming to mind.

Love made all the difference.
Culture did not dictate beauty.
Love did!
Love makes something plain into something beautiful.

I can imagine her grandmother’s hands.
Her knuckles were a bit large.
Time and age had begun to make her fingers crooked.
Her skin was so thin and transparent, her veins were accentuated.

But she was beautiful.
In this woman’s memory, her mother and her grandmother were truly beautiful.
Love did that.
Love makes things beautiful.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. (1 Peter 3:3,4)

The world has an unattainable standard of beauty.
It is unattainable because it is false.
It is manufactured.
It is an attempt to keep the aging process as far away as possible.

Growing old gracefully, according to the world’s standards, is not growing old at all.
However, we are depriving young people of seeing God’s design for beauty.
The world needs to see the inner beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit.
That is what is precious in God’s sight.

Growing old gracefully is growing more beautiful on the inside.
Growing old gracefully means growing in holiness.
The world’s standards are always changing.
God’s standards are written in His Word and never change.

Love makes things beautiful.
We are loved by God.
We are beautiful.
God’s love does that to a person.