Anti-Age Serum

Recently, I was given an amazing beauty product..."Meaningful Beauty" by Cindy Crawford.  It's awesome.  Along with the product is a handy water-proof "Daily Routine" sheet.  On the top of this sheet is a message from Cindy, "(the product) can help transform your skin and diminish the visible signs of aging."  Simply amazing.  

I wonder, though, what about the heart?  Isn't that where true meaningful beauty should come from? Don't get me wrong...I totally believe in a woman glamin' up, but outwardly we fade, right?  So, is there some cleanser, some anti-aging capsule for the soul?

Life does this thing to us.  Life is made up of time and time's clock ticks without pause.  Every time I look at my beautiful children, I'm reminded of that.  When I think of the time I walked through the woods hand in hand with my dad, or that time that I threw my shoe at my big brother, busting his lip, because he blew his nose on me (sorry, tangent); when I think of those moments and realize those moments weren't yesterday, time wins again.  The pendulum's steady swing seams to go faster the older I get.  And with time, life's blows take a toll on my heart the same way the wind does my appearance.  

I've been blessed to come across so many people.  Some, life seems to have gotten the best of. They're bitter or defeated, a hard peach pit or a battered doormat.  But then, there are those Rare Beauties that leave me inspired and awestruck.  One comes to mind.  Her name was Margaret.   She always had her hair up in a seemingly careless fashion with a few long locks framing her face.  Her face, it radiated;  she glowed.  Maybe she used Meaningful Beauty, but that's not the glow I'm talking about.  She beamed with beauty!

Her smile was painted red and contagious.  Her eyes were shiny blue waters that you could just swim in.  She'd wave her hands high in church, reaching to the heavens as she sang with the angels.  I was always so captivated by her.  As I'd watch her from the church stage, I never wondered where she came from...or where she was going.  I simply relished in each moment she was present, deciding she was who I wanted to be when I grew up.  She was over 90 years old when I was in my mid to late 20's.  She died a couple of years ago and it was a loss.  Funny, I hardly knew her, yet, her unfading beauty left an imprint on my soul.

What did she have that others don't?  I bet you're expecting me to say Jesus.  Yes, she knew Him absolutely.  Truth be told, however, some of the most embittered people I've known are Christian.  They know Jesus, they love Jesus, but they're just not that pretty.  Have you met anyone like that?  (If it's me, please message me or something.  You may remain anonymous.)  Seriously, though, I want to be like Ms. Margaret, with beauty seeping out of me like sap out of a tapped tree.  Pure, 100% Beauty, dripping on all who walk by; mesmerizing all who see the slow, sure flow of the tree that never runs dry.

How do I do this?  The biggest culprit of an aging soul, I believe, is the weather this life brings.  Just like we can't stop Father Time, we can't dodge Life's curve balls and not be hit.  Tragedy strikes, hearts break, walls are built as pieces of us are conquered by the storms that blow in.  We don't know it happens. Sometimes, the revelation hits us in a moment of perceived rejection, or driving down a road while choking back a sudden on-set of tears.  At these moments, we perceive something to be terribly wrong.  Our heart is calloused.  What we've called "guarded" has now become an impenetrable fortress.   Whether it's death, abuse, stinging words, bad choices, the wind whips our heart and we come to a point of sub-consious decision:  Wall-up or Fight back; be transformed for the better, or the worse. 

Inconclusively, our hearts age by life's experiences.  Whether we do so gracefully or not, I believe, is determined by what we choose to do with and in the storms.  In the words of a Rare Beauty that I recently met, "You must learn to embrace the storms."  Wow.  I imagine what that looks like and what moisture that could bring to a dry heart.  To cry, to grieve, knowing that "every tear is precious to the Lord".  If every tear that we cry is precious to the One who created us, could it be that tears are an important part of the anti-age serum?  Could it be that they are healing, cleansing, refreshing for the soul? 

Then, to understand that there is a "time for mourning, and a time for dancing", that we can mourn for the loss of innocence, time, purity; or, because of the pain, the wound, the scars, move on, and dance!  We can celebrate in the lesson of the storm, the hope that we have in surviving, the person we have been transormed into which, if we choose, is someone more beautiful than before. 

So, while for outer beauty, wind can wrinkle the skin, for inner-beauty, it can strengthen the soul. I desire to be beautiful to my deepest core.  I don't want to be a peach pit of a person.  Rather, I want to remain soft, trusting, and lovely.  I've begun a mission:  to find beauty.  Hold me accountable, tell me your thoughts, join me in the quest.  I feel I MUST know Beauty.  Meaningful beauty.  Perhaps, my beauty can touch yours and yours can touch someone else's.  Then, maybe, we can be a world of trees dancing and waving our arms to the heavens while the winds of this life toss our branches to and fro.  Beautiful! 

Symptoms of a Prideful Heart

Hi, I'm Stephanie, and I am a rebel.  I've been in denial for roughly 5 years now.  I suppose I figured I had grown out of it or something, as if rebellion was some sort of sweater that shrinks over time.  The fact is, when I realized I had a problem 6 years ago, I started praying that God would transform my heart,  that this "sweater" would some how shrink to nothingness.  I figured it had.  For 5 years, I thought I was in the clear, transformed, healed of this disease.

Then, one day, not too long ago, it hit me like a 2 by 4 to the head...I still have issues.  Who knew?  (My husband said he did, but that's beside the point.)  See, here's how this revelation came to me:  I remembered laying there on the hospital bed, highly medicated and feeling good after hernia repair surgery.  "No cleaning, lifting, or exercising for 4 weeks...", hold up, rewind....did a doctor, a man with a PH.D. just say "no cleaning", and in front of my husband?  Whoa.  I know I hardly clean anyway, but now I had permission...from a doctor!  And my husband heard!!!!!  Thank you, Jesus!

Then, something very odd happened.  I got home and felt this strange urge to clean.  I thought it was the medication so, I didn't think much of it at first.  Then, after day 3 of organizing and such, it really began to disturb me.  I mean, what was my problem?  My mother, who is a typical Puerto Rican Madre, has always been on me to "pick-up", even stating that she couldn't come into my house because it was "too stressful" for her.  My husband, who never says anything negative about my housekeeping, bless his heart, would fall into depression over my untidiness!  Now that no one was nagging, or falling into some depressive mental state; now that a doctor essentially prescribed laziness, I wanted to clean?   Something was wrong, I was sure of it.  I grabbed my Bible.

I opened to where I had left off just that morning:  1 Samuel 13:1.  Two chapters later, I realized the "sweater" had never been dumped, it had just faded.  In fact, the yarn that had made up the rebel within me was something completely unexpected.  My rebelliousness was only a symptom of a bigger culprit:  Pride.  (Another thing my husband already knew, but again, that's beside the point.)

Allow me to give you a brief synopsis of 1 Samuel 13:1 - 15:35.  In "Stephanie's Paraphrase", Saul was this guy appointed to be king over God's people.  He was tall and good-looking (as a good king should be, right?), won quite a few battles once in the position, and had a mentor of sorts, Samuel.  Now, Samuel and God were pretty tight...they talked often.  So, it was no surprise that Samuel knew when Saul decided to not wait on Samuel for instructions, as he had earlier been directed to do, "feeling compelled" to offer up a sacrifice to the Lord instead.  He also knew when Saul went to battle and spared King Agag and the enemy's cattle and sheep (all against God's instruction).

What does this have to do with Pride and Rebellion?  Watch as each piece is woven together:

13:11, "When I saw that you did not come within the days appointed..." Blaming.

13:12, "I felt compelled..." I just felt compelled to feel compelled to mention this.  As a woman, I feel compelled a lot.  "Feeling" can be dangerous without direction or logic.

15:11, "...he has turned back from following me..." Rebellion.

15:13, "Blessed are you of the Lord!  I have performed the commandment of the Lord." Pride.

15:14, "What then is this bleating of sheep..." Samuel calls him out.

15:15, "They have brought them...the people spared the sheep...the rest we have utterly destroyed."  Blaming.  Notice, though, he added himself to the part he had been ordered to do in the first place.

15:16, Samuel shuts him up...almost, "Be quiet!" "Speak on."  What?  Seriously?  Need I say, pride has blinded this fool?

15:17,  "When you were little in your own eyes, were you not head of the tribes of Israel?  Did not the Lord anoint you King of Israel?....Why then did you not obey the voice of the Lord?"  Ouch.
In humility, we are blessed.  In humility, we are used by the Master.  In humility, we are able to obey.

After a bunch of "buts", Saul reduces himself to one.  "But I have obeyed..." almost.  "But the people..." the people who follow the king's lead.  Samuel rebuttals, "Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord?  Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams.  For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry.  Because you have rejected the word of the Lord, He also has rejected you from being king."

God has a plan.  He wants to use me, to use you.  He doesn't need us.  He wants us.  As humans, we don't understand this kind of acceptance in a world that looks at degrees, good looks, and big houses to distinguish between "great people" and the not-so-great.  But, none the less, it's a fact.  The Creator of all creation wants us.  Did He need Noah to build an ark?  No.  But He wanted Noah to know Him.  Did he need Saul to be king?  No, He is The King.  "For His Name's sake, He will lead us and guide us." Psalm 31:3.  He has a heart for His people.  It's part of His plan to be Who He Is, to Love so we can know Love, and to use us to fulfill His purpose.  Part of that purpose, the main goal of this purpose, is to know Him.  To know who He is not, and who He is.  To know His voice, His whisper.

How long have I gone hearing God's whispers to begin something that's part of His plan?   How long have I thought, "But who would listen to me, God?"  Just as Saul, I have cared too much of others, "for I have transgressed the commandment of the Lord...because I feared the people and obeyed their voice." 1 Samuel 15:24.

Blaming, I did that.  That revelation of "Oh, crud, I think I'm cleaning because nobody's telling me to clean!" was followed with unwarranted anger, "If my mother wouldn't nag me, I'd clean more.  If my husband wouldn't expect so much of me, I would be a better housewife."  I've sacrificed my time for God, serving others, serving the church, instead of obeying what he's told me to do in the first place.  What good, then, is my "sacrifice"?  I cannot sanctify myself, I can't take off the sweaters that keep me bound.  Only God can do that.  It begins with my obedience, my surrender to His plans, my humility as I await to be laid bare as He unravels the sin that entangles me.

That's why I'm here, blogging.  It may sound silly, but I've rebelled doing this.  I've rebelled writing, rebelled social networking, rebelled technology.  Why?  Out of fear of rejection.  Pride.  There it is.  Disgusting, isn't it?  I owe God everything I have and am.  He's changed me, transformed me, made me new.  And He still has a lifetime of work to do in me.  But as He does, I want to be used by Him.  I want His Light to shine on my heart and in my life.  I owe Him that much for loving me, for saving me.    

So here I go, my Beautiful Journey typed out and raw.  Hopefully, for His Name's Sake, His Beauty can shine between the lines.  Cheers!