Saturday, March 5, 2011

Give me your eyes

Do you see what I'm doing here? Cute baby Teresa
distracts you from contemplating Frizzy Hair of Doom.

Every week, my household meditates on the Gospel and then makes a resolution to do something to live out the things we've been talking about. This past week, it was to surrender our anxieties to God by telling him "Conform my heart/will to yours."

Yesterday I could have used that prayer, but for most of the week I was excited about the future, not anxious about it. Things are finally starting to fall into place with the future. (Of course, then I get overeager and start trying to make them fall into place FASTER!! And then things degenerate. This is why I'm not good at Tetris, people.)

I was still anxious, though. Just not about the future. Or perhaps about the very near future, because of things that happened in the very near past. I won't go into detail there except to say that I had one of those days where I feel very stupid indeed. (Stupid is relative, and I'm my own worst critic, just so my mother doesn't worry I'm actually failing anything.)

Then I saw the resolution sticky-tacked to my desk. God, conform my heart to yours.

So I prayed that, because I had enough clarity even then to know that God doesn't think I'm stupid and worthless. Then I was suddenly reminded of this song, so I started praying, Give me your eyes.

Then last night I popped over to Elizabeth Foss' blog and saw her Five-Minute Friday post.

When I look in the mirror, what do I see?

I see my hair, which looks so lovely in pictures like this one, barely visible because I hate getting hair in my face so I pull it back 99% of the time. What you can see is always, always frizzy; there are always little bits sticking out here and there no matter how many times I redo my ponytail.

I like the color of my eyes best. You can't see it clearly up there, but they look blue until you get just the right moment or just the right angle, and then they look green. Really they're both, a soft grayish-blue that I inherited from my grandfather mixed with an inner circle of an odd yellowish color that I got from my dad. (His eyes are turquoise and yellow-green.) I love my cat eyes, except for the fact that (like Elizabeth's) they're almost never quite the same shape; the right one tends to be open wider than the left.

That's all the lefthanded compliments I can give myself; I just dislike the rest of my face. I have bad skin (better than it once was, of course, but still bad) and weird little folds of fat and that awkward tight-lipped smile. It is my smile but I hate it because back in the day I was told one too many times to SMILE, and when I was little I didn't know how to say, "I'm excited on the inside, okay?" (I have Asperger's; I don't do that showing your emotions thing.)

And then I wonder if that's how God sees me. I bet it isn't. For that matter, I bet Scott is going to leave a five-page comment on this post carefully explaining to me how I am WRONG.

So I keep praying, Give me your eyes.

1 comment:

Shakespeare's Cobbler said...

Seriously, you don't like your frizzy hair or your face? They're awesome! And so's your smile, even if it seemed intimidating when I didn't know you.

Your eyes are awesome too. I think I've told you about that.

Your face doesn't have fat or folds; it's not shaped like some starved girl from who knows where -- which is good, and you should realize that -- but I can't even figure out what you could possibly think are folds. It's a very nicely Megan-shaped face and I can't figure out what you're interpreting as "folds of fat". Besides, your head fits on my shoulder, which is awesome.

Your skin is beautiful, however difficult it is to keep it from bruising or whatever the trouble is -- I understand it's sensitive, but sensitive doesn't mean it's going to be ugly most of the time.

And then there's your soul, which you didn't even mention. How can you not mention that? Here you are worried about looking bad physically -- which itself is just the opposite of how you are -- what about everything else about you?

I'm serious. More off-blog.