3 minute video: Laugh your way to a better body image
Here’s her secret: (Short Video under 2 Minutes)
Let me know your thoughts.
I really wish there was a hair hotline for people to call when they are about ready to get out the weed whacker or dog clipper and whack it all off.
“Hair Hotline. Is this a hair emergency?’
“Yes, it is,” I assured Ms. Hair. “I’ve been growing my hair out for months, and I’m about ready to take a Weed eater to it. My bangs hang halfway down my eyes, and poke me like little kids tickling their younger brother. It’s really annoying. I’ve tried gel, mousse, and every type of hairspray on the planet, including pizza-flavored. But that only resulted in a crowd of teenage boys hanging around my house.”
“Oh ma’am, that sounds pretty heavy.”
“Well, that’s not the worst part,” I continued. “Last week I gave it all up and globbed a chunk of Crisco on my hair to try to get it under control, and now I look like a complete moron. I can’t get it out of my hair. I’ve tried everything I can think of.”
Ms. Hair snickered. Just what I needed – an unfriendly hair hotline helper to shame me.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I was just reading the funniest email someone sent me.”
“It looks pretty bad, and people have been calling me Crisco Head and telling me I should get into the oil export business. But they are right, in some ways. I look like I could resolve the entire world oil crisis. I really need help.”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty serious. Maybe you could do the export thing, or you could get a wig.”
I couldn’t believe her suggestions. “Don’t you have any other ideas?” I asked with a sigh.
“Okay, there is one other thing. Go buy a box of cornmeal, and empty the whole box on your head. It will soak up most of the oil so you don’t look like a greaser. Then you can brush it out of your hair, after rubbing it into the roots and covering each strand. Your hair will look sleek and gorgeous.”
“Sounds good. I’m gonna go buy some cornmeal right now.” Click. I hung up without thanking her because I didn’t think she deserved it with her slimy attitude.
I zipped to the store in my convertible, hoping the wind would whip through my bird’s nest-like hair. But of course that was impossible. At the stoplight I reached into my bag and got out my lipstick to do a quick touch-up.
Climbing out of car, I noticed a giant grease stain on the headrest. I whipped out my compact mirror and realized I had applied a thick layer of flesh-colored cover up instead of my favorite lipstick. My lips were heavily globbed with the cover-up because I had decided to apply the lipstick extra thick to detract from my greasy hair.
I pulled out a Kleenex and wiped off the cover-up, then strutted into the baking section of the grocery store to grab some cornmeal. Once I paid for it and drove home, I went into the kitchen and poured the entire box on my head. That’s when the phone rang.
My husband called to let me know we would be having guests over for dinner. He said his boss had to fly to Australia unexpectedly to take care of some business, so the dinner party scheduled for next week was to take place that night at our house.
“That’s going to be a little tough,” I responded. Later we will definitely have a long chat about this.
“Oh, don’t let it stress you out, honey. You know Ben is from Oklahoma and loves a good Southern meal with lots of grease and cornmeal – something like beans and cornbread, with lots of bacon grease in the beans.” Ugh.
My eyelids have a problem: They are falling every day, and at this rate they will be to my bellybutton by next Spring. I’ve thought of different ways to stop the sagging. I could use scotch tape, but I’m not sure how well it would work. Or maybe tooth picks would do the trick. Neither of those options sound promising. I know duct tape would do the job, and it comes in pink and purple. Maybe I could use different colored tape for different outfits. (Ok, by now you hopefully know I’m kidding. Please don’t try any of these things!)
Thankfully, we are created for so much more than obsessing about our appearances. Our culture blasts us with images from every angle, so I can easily forget that I have a much higher calling than obsessing about things such as my eyelids. The truth is God created me in his image, and I have a greater purpose than focusing on my eyelids, or any other part of my physique.
Deep in my soul, I know that I was created for so much more than fixating on questions like, “How can I get my eyelids to stay up in my northern hemisphere where they belong?” Or…drum roll, please…”Do these jeans make my tooshie look fat?”
Jesus cares much more about my heart than my runaway eyelids. He wants me to be the eyes, the hands, the love of Jesus, and to shine brightly in this world. He has crafted me as a unique masterpiece with gifts, talents, and a story, and he desires deeply for me to use those treasures for his glory.
I am me, and I can celebrate that I am a unique masterpiece. I’ve had the privilege of working with people through their hardships and helping them to see the beauty of their stories, and to grasp that they are each gems. And for that, I am eternally grateful.
My eyelids may be sliding south, but I know that I have a calling to show the light of Christ in this world. I can use the pain of two chronic illnesses and a divorce years ago from an abusive man to show people with humor and grace that they have much higher callings than focusing on appearance. I could obsess all day about my eyelids but I’m choosing to go out and live passionately to shine the love of Jesus.
What would it look like for you to stop obsessing about your appearance and focus on pointing people to the cross with your gifts, personality, stories, and talents? You are a masterpiece.
“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:10)
Some people are born with full, beautiful lips.
But not Rebecca.
She always had thin little lipettes until today. They used to just sit on her face, but now they had their own reality show.
Every so often I had to force my eyes up to meet hers, as mine kept getting hung up on the big shiny blobs sitting where her lips used to reside. They looked swollen and took up about a third of her face. Two pink slugs trying to talk.
Cotton candy colored sparkly lip gloss gave The Lips a larger-than-life look. I noticed people shielding their eyes from the glare. Bubble-gum pink lip liner gave The Lips a multi-dimensional reality. Apparently she had slapped on a jar of Vaseline to finish off the look. I could not believe that she could talk with all the gunk on her lips.
It was a miracle. I half expected The Lips to get stuck together, and then I would have to call 911. I slipped into a daydream…
“Emergency Services. How can I help you?” Breathing heavily, I gasped for air. “It’s my friend Rebecca,” I sputtered. “What’s the problem, ma’am?” “It’s her lips.” There. I managed to get it out. “Her lips?” “Yes, that’s right. Her lips are stuck together, and …” “Did she accidentally swallow Elmer’s glue? That happens to a lot of first graders.” “No, I think she wanted to have voluminous, movie-star lips, and had a lip job, then piled on truckloads of lip gloss, lip liner, and Vaseline to get the fullest look possible. And now she can’t pry her lips apart.” “Okay, this is obviously a prank call, and I’m gonna have to report you.” Click.
“Cherrie, hello, are you listening?” Rebecca rolled her eyes at me. “For a minute it looked like you were off in your own little world.”
Oops. I guess I was off in my own head for a few minutes, thinking about the lengths we go to transform ourselves into our culture’s standard of beauty. I was born with full lips, but I suppose if I could buy a pair of longer legs, I would consider it. 🙂
Nowadays I have more positive feelings about my body. Since I came down with ankylosing spondylitis and later lupus, I’ve learned to appreciate my body for its amazing ability to do what God designed to do. Although I was an athlete and treated my body pretty well, I was shocked to develop such auto-immune disorders. My focus is now much more about, “I’m so thankful I can walk and breathe with no pain,” than “Does my butt look big in these jeans?”I remember days when I couldn’t do those things without crying in pain, and there was a whole month that I couldn’t walk at all. To use the restroom, I had to roll off the couch and crawl on my knees down the hall. So nowadays I try to focus more on the good and less on the body parts I would have liked to trade in for a newer model. God encourages us to focus on the positive and avoid dwelling on the negative. Over all, I am filled with gratitude that my body has the capability of moving in such amazing ways. I try to stay out of Negative-ville in my head. After all, it’s a jungle in there!
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. “ (Philippians 4:8-9)
This is me kayaking on Lake Perryagin in Winthrop, WA. Kayaking and chocolate are my drugs of choice!
(NOTE: Rebecca is not her real name. )