I’m just going to shamelessly sound like a mama for a minute. I have three beautiful-hearted grown children. I am so very blessed to have any claim on them at all. I could just cry at the thought. Although they are beautiful outside, I have spent the better part of their growing up time telling them that it is what’s on the inside that counts. When my girls wanted to model, I said no. Lindsay did end up modeling when she was much older, but she grew out of that desire with the line I’ll never forget. “Mom, I like ice cream more than I like a size 4.” Amen to that. She is her mother’s child. I told all three of them that if they work half as hard on what they look like on the outside and twice as hard on who God sees, they’d be just fine. And that they are.
I truly despise what this culture is teaching our young women. For a good part of my life, one of my causes has been to try to make sense of this mess we, as women, find ourselves in not being able to feel comfortable in our own skin. Years ago, I wrote a book on the subject called A Toolbox for Our Daughters. More recently, I wrote a post about all this, so I won’t go any further with this now. Suffice it to say that I want for women and men in our culture to know that authentic beauty is so much more than cosmetics and outer fixes.
What I do want to say is they got it. My kids all care about how pretty or handsome their hearts are. Lindsay called me the other day and said this song reminded her of us. I love that she remembers what is important. God must think she is so very beautiful, too.