Oh that Eliza is one smart cookie! No truer words were ever spoken about our species (if you are a woman) than those of the above well-turned phrase.  How we are treated makes a difference.

However, as a woman, I spend too much time looking to the media, the magazine racks by the grocery store checkout aisle, the weight loss infomercials, the movies, my mental images of how I "once" looked and determine my self worth according to the size of my jeans.  The WORLD is not treating me in a derogatory way - directly - however I am letting the WORLD affect how I treat myself!

For the most part, I feel like a lady.  My self image is based on biblical truth.  I know who I am.  However, certain times of the month, conversations, and social situations pull my thinking into the gutter and I dwell on all that is wrong and before I know it ... SHAZAM ... I am a flower girl.

This week I took one of my beautiful girls shopping.  Once the dressing room door closed and garments meant for toothpick girls were tried on and didn't fit ... the flower girl mentality came over her.  I could physically see her buy into the fact that because her beautiful body didn't fill out all the right places she was somehow less than ideal.  I hate that!  Hate, hate, hate!

Girls, ladies, women everywhere!  Unite!  We are not the number our jeans display ... we are created "good"!  Why can't we see that gentleness, strength, inner beauty, kindness, authenticity, truthfulness, compassion, driven, creativity could be the label on our clothes and how we are defined!  I choose to define myself ... beautiful.  I choose to plant seeds and cultivate truth in my beautiful girls that who they are has nothing ... NOTHING ... to do with a number.  They are NOT flower girls ... they ARE ladies!!

On a soap box,
christina
size: passionate

Today was the first “down” day we’ve had in a long time. While the older girls had a full schedule this fair Saturday, Chris and I took Libby (against her will) out for the day. We decided to explore the Kleider Bauer outlet and find a second-hand store I passed the other day in a new part of town that to us was unfamiliar.

The sun was out (Hallelujah) and you could feel spring in the air! I was giddy (it could be the fact that I have a vitamin D deficiency and any amount of sun sets me all a tingle!). Needless to say, we found some great bargains for Chris ( I can’t believe he won’t let me post pictures of him modeling his new 10 euro shirts we found for him!) and then found a quaint café where I got a cheap and fabulous coffee.

As we made our way to sniff out more bargains at my second-hand store, something unexpected happened. Let me chase a rabbit here. Despite living in a beautiful city, where socialism takes care of the unlovely and dejected ... where they are not cast out of mainstream society as in poorer countries, we have our share of heartbreaking casualties of life. And, when you come face to face with one of them, it makes it impact upon the soul. That’s what happened to us today.

As I was thinking about what bargains I might uncover, a young man entered the U-Bahn (subway). He carried himself with no grace and no distinction. His movements were slow and he held his head low. After a difficult entry into the U-Bahn car, he found a seat closest to the exit where he labored to set his frame down. His face was badly scared apparently from burning. One of his eyelids dropped to the point of sagging to expose the bright red underneath side. He bore the signs of a tracheotomy. He had to physically pick up his right leg to move it into place. His right hand was partially paralyzed as well. He strained to see the map, apparently trying to find the U-Bahn stop that would take him to his destination.

I was stopped in my tracks. Today, as I battle with hormones and feeling ugly and fat … the power of this young man’s presence shattered my self-pity. I could do nothing but indiscreetly keep my eyes fixated on every move this young man made. As I did, I saw Chris dancing this same awkward inner dance as I was. And, to my joy ... or horror, saw Libby wrestling with the same emotions.

As I sat, spellbound, I prayed. I prayed that this young man would know the love of Jesus. I prayed that he would have some encounter with the creator of the universe. I prayed that he would have a dream in which God would give him a personal dose of unconditional love and grace. I just prayed.

As we approached our U-Bahn stop and exited, no one in our trio said a word. As we came above ground, my Chris broke the silence with a remark about how thankful we should be for the simple things. I could hold it no longer. I began to cry.

I told Chris that I no longer felt ugly and fat, but thankful … so very thankful. I told him all I could do was sit there and pray for that young man. He said he was doing the same. Then, as he asked sweet Libby if she noticed the man, she shook her head yes. As she looked up at us with her expressive blue eyes, it was apparent she had been touched as well.

Then, perhaps the most profound moment of the day came when my Chris said how apparent it was that God was working in that young man’s life today. I was puzzled. My Chris went on to explain that for whatever reason, God allowed us to cross paths with that young man today … to see his struggle … to see his pain … and stir our hearts toward him. Our prayers meant something. Our experience with this man had meaning.

It was so brief. This young man shared a few stops on the U-Bahn. Yet somehow this was a holy moment.

After processing this with my Chris, I am encouraged ... and somehow enlightened. In my western mentality of Christianity, I think I have to do things, be things, produce things for God to use it. It's my effort, my ability, my strategy, me ... me ... me. Agh!

Why wouldn't God show us the unlovely to move our hearts toward love? Why wouldn't God use our inability to do a thing ... except pray ... to show us the power He alone holds?

The older I get, the weaker I really see what I am capable of. Who's to say that my prayers on the U-Bahn today will not produce greater fruit than a year of "doing" things for God.

Please hear me ... we must do things. God tells us that our works show our faith. However, when we put our confidence in what we do ... feeling somehow the results of our work is what counts ... we are sorely mistaken.

I have a vivid imagination. As a child, I used to pretend there was a video camera in my room ... capturing my moves as I stared in my own sitcom. Of course, I was the star, my teddy bears and dolls the supporting characters. It was all about ... me!

However, today my imagination cast a much better picture. For whatever reason, God chose my Chris, sweet Libby, and me to involve in this young man's life today. What if the next time we meet this young man ... it's in heaven. What if he comes up to us ... and introduces us to himself as the unlovely on the U-Bahn. I can just imagine me looking over to Jesus ... with him giving a quick blink of an eye ... and me feeling that in my heart it was just about me knowing the power of a big and awesome God ... and how He choose to move on behalf of an unlovely young man ... to produce a whole lot of fruit ... and it wasn't about me!

My girl Addison and my precious Parker are both playing basketball. They are adorable. They are the kind of girls that I looked at when I was their age and thought …

“Wow … I wish I could look as cute as they do in my basketball uniform!”

Don’t feel sorry for me. I have the pictures to prove my wish was validated.


However, they would never even presume to think they are “all that”. Their tender and sensitive hearts don’t seem to focus on how cute they look in their uniforms like their very insecure and overly sensitive mother did at their age. They are somehow settled. They are girls, don’t get me wrong. They have bad hair days and nothing looks good on me days … but more often than not those days are the exception, not the rule.


Why?

Because, I am a terrific mother.

Ok, I wondered how long you would ponder that until you realized I was totally joking!

Seriously, I believe it’s the power of words … God’s Word. Lately I feel like God has wanted to show me something new about Jesus. He has me reading in the Gospels right now. In Matthew, I began seeing Jesus as this confrontational action hero. He had such boldness (not to be confused with rudeness) to confront the religious leaders … speak truth … and tell them things that they were clearly missing the point about. For example, one time Jesus tells them they lack two things:

1. They lack knowing the scriptures.
2. They lack knowing the power of God.

He says that if they knew those two things, they wouldn’t have bothered asking him the questions they did.

You go, Jesus. That’s the way to pin them down, call it like it is, expose their religious hypocrisy! Then, as I step off the cheering pedestal I have climbed on, I hear that all too familiar voice whisper something in my heart … that place only I can recognize the tender discipline of my friend, Jesus. I hear him asking me to evaluate how much I know the scriptures … and then … if I did … how much am I seeing the power of God as a result of my belief in His word!

Shazam! I start this line of thinking that goes like this. If I know, really know God’s Word, then I’m gonna believe it in daily life, in normal circumstances, in crisis, in heartache, in joy … and if I believe God’s Word … then I’m gonna begin to see evidence of His power.

This is a picture that paints this concept very simplistically, but that’s how I roll. Simple.
This week, I had to book airline tickets. I found a great deal from a “cheap” internet website. I’m excited I got such a good deal and book the tickets. Within hours I get a notice from my credit card company saying the recent attempt at purchasing airline tickets is banned for suspicious activity. My planning little self gets stressed. Now what …

If I know what God’s Word says “be anxious for nothing, but in prayer and supplication and thanksgiving make your requests known to God, then the peace of God will overcome you” then I have a choice to make.

1. Either get over myself, quit worrying about not finding a good deal, and pray, asking God to help me and give me wisdom.
2. Worry. Stress. Freak out.

I did both. I won’t lie. However, after I choose the inappropriate alternative, I checked back into my head and heart and remembered the new thing Jesus had shown me. How would I experience God’s peace and the power if I continued to freak out?

I emailed the rather complicated response from the German travel agent to my Austrian friend. She quickly helped me ratify the situation, cancel the tickets, and clear everything up. It was simple.

I saw God’s power. The power wasn’t the uncomplicated end result. The power was that in my tendency to freak out … there was an “Ah ha” moment and the cycle stopped. Ladies and gentleman that is a miracle and the very power of God!

Now, back to my adorable basketball playing girls who look so good in their uniforms. From the beginning of their cute little lives, they have heard God’s Word about them. They have heard and learned the verse in Ephesians that says they are a masterpiece, created to do good works. If you hear something long enough you believe it! Their confidence comes from knowing who they are … masterpieces! Their confidence doesn’t come in how good they look in their basketball uniforms! That’s the power of God!


These cuties will have struggles to come in their lives. They are gonna have to make a decision just like their Momma did about the tickets. The only way they are gonna make it through life is to know God’s Word … and see His power when they choose to act on it. Good advice from a good Father.

What does a hair meltdown really mean? If you are a girl, you know what I am talking about! Why is it that a bad hair day can send me in an emotional spiral that ends with me drowning in my sorrows, desiring nothing more than to devour a whole dark chocolate candy bar?

And, what is it with women and our need for security: emotional, financial, relational, and with the spaces we call our homes? I consider myself a person of foundational girth, who doesn’t bend by bad news or cry at the thought of giving up something I call mine. Yet, upon finding out that our flat is pretty much sold and we will be moving … I’m shaken.

This same emotional being that I find myself to be can also be the strictest of disciplinarians. This week I had to “lay down the law” with one of my precious offspring. As she sat on my bed wiping back tears of disappointment in herself, I continued to banter on and on about the importance of pulling herself together. She didn’t need that … or did she? No emotions were spilling out of my fountain … nope, not me. I was the strong voice of hard disciple. Really?

Then, in the same week, I have a breakfast date with my man. We had a great morning “catching up” on life, calendar, plans, and kids. I was giddy and light. I always feel pretty and thin and young when I’m on a date with my Chris. (In fact, it’s my goal to have one every other day to keep my self-esteem in check!) Remember, this was the same girl who had an emotional breakdown over hair, got set upside down by a house, laid down the law, and now … am a giggly, sappy woman in love. Wow!

I’m a mess most days. This morning … (and let’s take a little road trip here … while I tell you that I am totally loving our September! The weather is pretty much perfect! The temps are cool in the morning, warming up just enough to take your sweater off, and then cool down again in the evening. Every day we have sun. Every day I feel happy. In fact, if I was a betting woman, I’d say we’ve had more sun in September than the entire summer combined! Now … back to our original story. Thanks for taking this little trip with me!) … I’m reading in Genesis. Abraham, Jacob, Isaac … you know these guys of whom I speak. All real pillars of the bible, people you can put on your top 1o to look up to. Guess what … they were messes too!

The more I walk with God … and hear His voice above the clang of all others … I’m reminded that life is more about the contrasts and pitfalls of our own selves … and learning that God can use those, change those, redesign those things as He chooses … to make something beautiful out of … a mess.

Psalm 1 says that God watches over the path of the godly. He said godly … not perfect. Godly doesn’t mean we’ve mastered life. Godly means we we’ve mastered our pride … knowing we are a mess on our own … but a masterpiece with and in and through God.

Messy … yet a masterpiece,
Christina

I have an addiction. I blame my addiction on my Mother-in-love, Shirley. While we lived in the states, we never had cable TV. It wasn’t some moral stand we were making; we were just cheap and found we could use the money we’d spend on cable for other things … like groceries. However, when we would visit Shirley, we were exposed to the wild and wonderful world of cable television. Some of my favorite memories roaming around my head are scenes of sitting in Shirley’s living room, nice beverage in hand, watching TLC’s “What Not to Wear”.

Not familiar with the show? (Oh my … you have not truly lived until you’ve seen Stacy London and Clinton Kelly rake someone’s fashion choices over the coals. I used to think they were rude … and I will say sometimes their comments are sketchy … but they speak the truth … they just don’t always speak the truth in love!) Deserving, non-fashionable women are nominated by caring friends and/or family for a complete makeover. They are given $5,000 USDA to spend on remaking themselves and choosing appropriate and fashion forward outfits. The catch: they have to go by rules fashion guru’s Stacy and Clinton lay down AND they have to throw out their current wardrobe. They get to go to New York, receive the rules, get their clothes canned (literally … they stuff them in a trash can), shop, get a new hair-do, learn simple yet elegant make-up tips and then … at the end of the transformation … get a party to reveal their new look to those friends and loved ones who’ve had to endure their fashion mistakes in the past.

So, I’ve been spending this past weekend watching (thanks to YouTube) episodes of “What Not to Wear”. I love the tips they give.

If one has a large upper portion of your body, then you should wear a V-neck top to elongate the body, thus appearing longer and leaner.

If your want to slim a thicker thigh, get trouser jeans that are wide at the hip and carry the width all the way down the stride of the pant.

Pointy toed shoes always help a body appear longer.

Outfits should have: pattern, texture, color and shine.

Things don’t have to match but they do have to go.

Go with a few simple basics and then accessorize, accessorize, accessorize.

Stacy and Clinton walk fashion challenged individuals to take an interest in how they look, how they project themselves to the general public, and how they can find what’s beautiful in them.

I love how a simple blouse with an inset waist and an A-line skirt can make Debbie Downer smile, feel pretty, and giggle her back to the changing room to try on another outfit!

Ok, so the chances of me landing a fashion reality show on cable TV are pretty slim, however, I wanna be like Stacy and Clinton! I wanna be like them for a couple of reasons:

1. I wanna be fashion forward because it does make you feel more confident when you look good. It’s not about obsessing about your clothes and being shallow. It’s about feeling good in your skin, finding the positive about your body, and then dressing it in a way to let the world around you know you are actively engaged in the world around you. I spend way too many days hating the size of my “upper portion” and whining about the diameter of my thighs. No more! I’m gonna work with what I have … work with creating a slimmer look … be content and move on!

2. I wanna be the girl that looks at someone else, sees the best in them, and encourages them to be and live up to their full potential!

I’m reading in the book of Genesis in the bible right now. I like the way God, from the get go, made our physical bodies. He didn’t clothe us. He didn’t need to. It was pure and honest and right to be ok with our bodies and each other. However, after Adam and Eve broke God’s boundaries for them, things went terribly wrong.

Shame set in because what God had designed was sabotaged for a bite of fruit. Body image set in … they made fig leaves to clothe themselves.

What I find terribly tender is what God does next. He gives them the consequence of breaking the boundary … and then he gives them a fashion make-over. He trades in their fig leave clothes for ones made from animal skin (Who knew Eve was fashion forward in a nice leopard print skirt!) Fig leaves wouldn’t cut it in the world outside the Garden. Fig leaves wouldn’t hold up under the strain and stress of the work ahead of them. Fig leaves weren’t going to protect them from the weather.

Ok, so in my effort to tie this all together … God cares about us … all aspects of who we are. Do I need to obsess over my physical appearance? Heavens no … grow up. However, when we feel good about who we are there is a confidence and expectation that follows. I’m pretty sure Adam and Eve weren’t feeling pretty capable for the next chapter in their now difficult lives in fig leaves. However, animal skins, coupled with the love of a just Father, were what they got … and needed … and moved them forward.

Moving forward in last year’s jeans but making the most of it with some new accessorizes,
Christina

Good news about my Dad. After many tests, pokes, and prods, he is fine. With some minor instructions about watching cholesterol and weight, he has recovered at home this past week and will begin work on Monday! I’m so thankful for the good report. I’m so thankful we are not journeying down another path.

Speaking of weight, I just have to say something about what happened this week. OK, for the sake of a good story, I will subject myself to humiliation. Be prepared for what lies ahead.

I am a simpleton. I do wear makeup (it would be too cruel a joke to play on the rest of humanity if I didn’t) but not anything extreme. I wear simple lip shimmer, my favorite being Burt’s Bee’s lip shimmer (Rhubarb) which, alas, I am out of and cannot purchase here (giant hint!). However, the other day I was feeling, in a word, ugly. The weather was gray which seemed to match my face. I felt I needed some color. So, taking a risk, I chose colored lip stick that my Mother-in-love Shirley gave me over the summer, and I might add, said looked beautiful on me.

Thus, the story develops. Libby was at a friends’ house. Too bad it wasn’t an Austrian friend’s house, for perhaps they would not have understood her English well enough to know the deep scars she unknowingly inflicted on my vanity. It had been a long day. However, wearing my colored lipstick and feeling “pretty” I ever so confidently walked into these fellow Americans' house to retreive my beloved youngest child. Libby, being the outspoken, quick-to-say-what-she-thinks kind of girl, proceeds to say, “Wow Mom! Where’d you get those lips?” I slinked out of their house and haven’t been back since.

If that wasn’t enough, this past week Libby let another precious word bomb drop on my vanity. Praise God it was just in front of the Elledge 5, but a bomb none-the-less. As many of you know, I have to take medication for anxiety. The meds keep me “normal” (no comments please) but have one little draw back – weight gain. I deal with it, don’t like it, but there you have it. One night at dinner while it was just us girls (Addison, Parker, Libby and myself) I felt like sharing my struggle and feelings about the weight as a way to try to show them beauty isn’t what the media pushes but what lies within. I told them I felt that God wanted me to exercise and even though I didn’t really want to, I wanted to be healthy and obedient to God. However, again, I wanted to communicate being “pretty” comes from within … from the heart. So, I made a comment that even though I was chubby, I wanted to be beautiful to God.

Several days later, as we were preparing for dinner. The girls were putting homework away, there was hustle and bustle and I flippantly told Chris I had exercised that day. Libby, out of the depths of her heart says to me … “Mom, it’s ok that you are chubby. We have all just gotten used to it.” Gulp. Gasp. Enough said.

So, what’s the point of this blog? True beauty and confidence comes from within … from a place God grows. I gotta go … apply more lipstick and exercise some more!