I walked past her at least 5 times. I was trying to catch a glimpse of each limb, each fingernail, each eyelash, each….wait….is that cellulite? I knew it! She has cellulite on her eyelids. I only have cellulite on my thighs like a normal woman. Why would he choose her over me? My cellulite is prettier and a lot less awkwardly placed.
Sounds ridiculous, right?
But before you judge me, remember how familiar it sounds. The last time you were rejected, passed over, made to feel like an option when you used to be a priority. We’ve all done it before. We somehow catch a glimpse of the new girl that we claim took our place and try with all our might to find cellulite in the girl’s eyelids. Her. Eye. Lids.
I know I’m not the only one.
But why do we do this to ourselves? To other women? Why do we elect to see flaws when God has demanded that we see beauty?
And even if that poor girl has cellulite in her eyelids, that’s not the reason we’re not together. There is something he sees in her that God is purposefully hiding in me. And He’s waiting for just the right time to reveal it to whom He sees fit.
That man’s rejection is not a barometer of my beauty or a weight of my worth. Nor is comparing myself to her a balm for my broken heart, but a seed of bitterness that will destroy the beauty God so carefully mended into each cell of your being before you were even thought of.
How rude. You dismantle something the Creator of the universe molded with his bare hands, flaw after perceived flaw, so that you can find cellulite in other women’s eyelids.
That’s like finger painting over the Mona Lisa or setting fire to the great basilicas of Rome. If you did that, you’d be arrested and probably put to death by firing squad. And those were only made by men. But somehow since it seems as if our criticisms of God’s own handiwork go unnoticed, we feel our tearing apart the work of God’s finger is without consequence.
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather face the firing squad than to come face to face with the Master Artist whose work you’ve secretly torn apart out of envy and insecurity.
Want to avoid that fate? I’ve got an idea. Next time the sky is clear, go out and take a look at the stars. Observe how carefully He placed each one and set them in the sky as evidence of His handiwork.
And despite how beautiful that night canvas can be, it cannot compare to the ones He’s made in His image. Just like there is beauty in each star, there is far more in each of us. Infinitely more.
Choose to see that next time the enemy prompts you to compare. Speak beauty over each flaw, both in yourself and in her. Even the cellulite in her eyelids.
Hey there! My name is Roz. I’m a full time working, single, homeschooling mother to the world’s funniest 5 year old on the planet. I’m an introvert who is obsessed with bacon. I like to play music extremely loudly in my car and will keep singing at full voice even when you turn to stare. I also blog occasionally over at mamamannalife.com where I write words about Jesus, homeschooling, and the beauty of imperfections. I look forward to sharing my imperfections with you, as well.