This week we’ve been talking about how to weed out the lie that you are not beautiful. We’ve been talking about the surprising place that ugly sometimes comes from.  And we agreed to go on a beauty hunt together this week.

To write down beauty everywhere we found it in ourselves– laundry folded in love, beds made, dinners cooked, lattes picked up for the husband at Starbucks. The red high heels, the swimsuit that shows off the wonder that your body has delivered, the family legacy of freckles. Even the tired eyes from being up all night with sick kids.

We agreed to write it down – write down the only definition of beauty that matters:

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14.

Want to take five minutes with me and share what you found? Want to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. Here’s how we do it:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat with no editing, tweaking or self critiquing.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in {you can grab the button code in my right side bar}

3. Go and tell the person who linked up before you what their words meant to you. Every writer longs to feel heard.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes for the prompt:

Beauty…


GO:

It’s hard to find a photo with the kids that has me in it. I’m all about pointing the lens in their direction and hiding behind the ability to lighten, tighten, sharpen the frame and the focus. When did I stop considering myself photo-worthy? Because, after all, when I hunt for beauty it is waiting everywhere for me. That nearly six-year-old boy that swoons when I get up in the morning, whether dressed for church or any other day, and declares with all the sincere melodrama of youth, “Mama, you are so beoootiful!”

It is there in the husband who laughs off guard at my off kilter sense of humor that’s stuck around since we first met. It’s there in my attempts to make new chicken dishes and there in my even greater attempts to get the kids to eat them.

Beauty is hiding in the bathroom when I get down on hands and knees to clean the floor and locked in the hot, hot car when I open doors and drive every day to pick up kids with smiles and plans for the afternoon.

Beauty lingers all around me at 2am when I’m up with my baby girl beauty, feeding, soothing, rocking countless, endless, and constantly interrupted night time shifts. The more haggered I feel in the morning, the more beautiful I know my soul is becoming.

This aching for service for this family. This fighting down frustration and fighting back chaos. This making time in the midst to set out on the messy back deck with Peter to just reconnect. This is the greatest finding of beauty in the midst of my every day polaroids.

My mirror is no longer the boss of me. I now tell it what to see.

STOP.

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