Listen with your heart, you will understand. -Pocahontas.

Flawless.

"I didn't make any mistakes on you."

That's what He told me during the Diesel Black Gold fashion show in New York City last week. 


Surrounded by mostly naked models- helping my precious Canadian girl get her long thin legs into the metallic pants and strappy heals- cameras flashing, stylists stressing, hairstylists spraying her fly-aways while I quickly tuck in the sparkly tank top, working incredibly hard to make it appear effortless... 


This was the first show that I really felt it. I started to look at their faces. I marveled at the perfection of their features. Their noses were petite, their skin was clear, blemish free. Their legs were long, thighs thin, stomachs flat. Most of them were basically shapeless, small breasts, little bottoms, and no cellulite. 


This wasn't my first show. I had been with gorgeous models all week and had not yet struggled with feeling inadequate. Today was the first day. 


This was my first show that involved male models though. That was intriguing and terrifying. Actually it only became scary when I was assigned to dress one of them. I couldn't fathom helping a man put on his clothes. Actually I am laughing as I type this because of how funny it still is to me. Silently I was looking around the room praying that one of the other male models would take off their clothes before mine did, just so I could get over the initial shock of seeing a strange attractive man in boxers. But God was awesome, he protected me and last minute a male dresser showed up so they switched me over to dressing a female model. Maybe next year I'll be ready for that. This year I'm not. 


So back to my feelings. As I am looking at these beautiful young women I was remembering my eating disorder. My thoughts immediately turned hopeless. Even when I was starving myself, even when I was forcing myself to vomit after I ate, I still didn't look like these girls. My nose is bigger, my thighs are thicker, my skin is not as smooth... I am just not enough like them to do what they do. 


But just as the hopelessness of inadequacy started to settle into my mind, like the kind of mean fog that causes car accidents, my Savior intervened. 


"I DIDN'T MAKE ANY MISTAKES ON YOU."


My smile was so large, I mean huge, like it went all the way up to my forehead. God didn't make any mistakes on me! The way I look is perfect, it is exactly how I am supposed to look, and it is everything I need it to be in order to walk out the plans God has for me. I wanted to run around and tell people but I wasn't standing by any Christians and I am very aware of how strange it sounds to start a story by saying, "Guess what God just told me in my mind!?!" 


So instead I stopped looking at the other girls with envy and began again to look upon them with love. I prayed for them. I wandered around encouraging them. I treated the male models like normal guys. I do not want to be reduced to just being my outward appearance and so I made a point to treat them like they were more than just pretty faces. 

Amazing. Actually yesterday while I was cleaning I had a weak moment while I was remembering my models from last week, and I momentarily thought of my shortcomings again, but don't worry, it didn't last long...within one second of my yucky thoughts I accidentally smashed my head into a cabinet. It was painful and kind of hilarious because I couldn't keep thinking badly about myself, I realized how silly I was being and again prayed for my girls. 

The thing with our appearance is that there are lots of opinions. There are lots of voices that will tell us who we are and whether or not we are good enough, or small enough, or valuable enough. But only one of those opinions is true. If we do not grab ahold of the truth and align our thoughts with it, we will be stuck in negativity and miss out on the marvelous freedom we were designed for. 

I was taking a walk this morning as the sun was coming up. The sky was pink. That is the magnificent work of our beautiful Creator. I spend most weekends near the ocean. It is big, and blue, and green, and lovely. That is the magnificent work of our beautiful Creator. I am from Colorado. The mountains are perfect, the snow sparkles, autumn smells sweet, and the forests are breathtaking. That is the magnificent work of our beautiful Creator. 

You are one of a kind. You are unique, gorgeous, brilliant in appearance, intelligent beyond what you even know about yourself, fun, gifted, precious, love-able, valuable, strong. You are the magnificent work of our Beautiful Creator. He didn't make any mistakes on you. You are exactly enough for what He has called you to. 

"All beautiful you are my darling, there is no flaw in you." Song of Songs 4:7 

I am reading a book by Donald Miller called "Through Painted Desserts". Reading it is like being on a road trip, perhaps because it is about him going on a road trip. But I mean it in the sense that I desire to rush through it and learn all the things I can possibly learn, like driving quickly to see the important sites, but in actuality the beauty is in the journey, and it is the journey that will teach me the most.

Here is a part that spoke to my heart, it reminds me of what I am experiencing here in New York City. He is talking about Houston, but for me Houston is LA, and New York, and Colorado Springs. He also mentions Paul, his hippie friend, and my role model today.

"And it hit me that amid the screaming noise, amid the messages that said buy this or buy that and I will be complete, I could hardly know the life that was meant to be. Houston makes you feel that life is about panic, and nothing more. Nobody stops to question whether they need the house or car or better job. And because of this there doesn't seem to be any peace, any serenity. We can't see stars in Houston anymore, we can't go to the beach without stepping on a coke bottle, we can't hike in the woods because there aren't any woods. We can only panic about the clothes we wear, panic about the car we drive, sit stuck in traffic and panic about whether or not the guy who cut us off respects us. We want to kill him, for crying out loud and all the while we feel a need for new furniture, a new t.v. and a bigger house in the right neighborhood. We drive around in a trance, salivating for Starbucks while that great heaven sits above us, and that beautiful sunrise is happening in the desert, and all those mountains out west are collecting snow on the limbs of their pines, and all those leaves are changing color out east. God it is so beautiful, it is so quiet, it is so perfect. It makes you feel, perhaps for a second, that Paul gets it and we don't- that if you live in a van & cook your own food on a fire & stop caring about whether or not people do or do not like you, that you have broken through, that you have shut your ear to the bombardment of lies that never, ever stop whispering in your ear. And maybe this is why he seems so different to me, because he has become a human who no longer believes the commercials are true, which perhaps is what a human is designed to be."