Skin Deep Beauty

Every now and then I have to step outside of my box and do something crazy and risky. That’s my explanation for why I, a person with a fear of heights would go paragliding.

Yes I do mean paragliding, as in sailing through the sky at about 20,000 feet in the air attached to a parachute, a pilot, and nothing else.

The first time I went up was scary but fun. The second time I went up (yes I actually did it twice), I wanted to get over my fears and just have fun. Of course, that’s the time that something goes wrong, and the pilot and I have an “emergency landing” straight through a thorny tree mere feet away from huge boulders on the side of a mountain.

Things just went from bad to worse.

Fortunately I survived the crash as did my pilot, and 3.5 hours later I’d hiked through the forest, up the mountain side, and was back in the truck on the way home; exhausted, and clothing partially in shreds, but otherwise okay and alive! The next day I had bruises and scratches ALL over.

I think the last time I needed a band-aid was for a paper cut or hang nail.

So in some ways it was very surreal to have all these scratches all over my body. I’m not overly obsessed with my appearance, but I do like to look good, and I’m not particularly fond of scars in places I can’t or don’t want to have to cover up. Now, don’t get me wrong I’m grateful for every bruise and scratch, because as I look back at the pictures from the crash site; it could have very easily been a different story. I mean who crashes while paragliding and doesn’t even break a bone?

Anywho, as I began to look at my cuts and scratches God began to speak to me. I hate the scars up and down my arms and legs, but I can’t hide them. I’m sure that in time they’ll fade. But they’ll always be visible. I can cover them up, but in 100 degree temperatures, that’s not too practical.

So here I am with these scars.

They’re ugly, but a beautiful reminder of God’s goodness and salvation. And while they mar the smooth planes of my skin, I’ve gotten the opportunity to see, that they don’t make me ugly. I can still be beautiful. Funny how I’ve struggled almost my entire life with weight issues, and how ugly I feel because of excess pounds that are under my control to lose; but here I am with these scars that I’m powerless to erase and I feel that I can still be beautiful despite these unwanted markings.

I couldn’t stop them from happening,
I can’t make them go away,
I have to accept them and live with them.

But they are not me.

I am more than a number,
more than a few lines and scratches.
I am still beautiful.

Not because of my lips, eyes, nose, mouth or complexion, but because I am made in the image of God. My beauty comes from within. And by that I don’t mean my personality, but from my spirit. The human spirit God put in each of us that reflects Him.

Beauty that goes deeper than my insecurities,
my weight,
my flaws,
my scars.