Where Beauty Is
“The fig tree ripens its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. ‘Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away’” (Song of Solomon 2:13).
I am beauty—in all its dimensions, in all ways beauty is characterized. I am the foundation.
Beauty is distorted when my heart is not heeded, when my heart in my children is silenced. I hold my hand below the heavens. It sweeps color like a brush—folding within the creation itself.
Beauty can be hidden between folds, in cracks in hard hearts. Beauty exists in softening, in ground fertile, expectant, wanting to be watered. Beauty is possibility, the expectation of pushing through the rough patches until there is ever greater softening. Hardness—a hard heart— is the opposite of beauty.
There is no becoming more beautiful.
What I have created is beauty—the foundation of all I create is beauty. Beauty needs to be discovered. I see it. I see you. I see all possibility of love blooming in hard places. That blooming—that discovery—that claiming of the beauty that is you, is realizing the fullness of who you are. You, my girl, have beauty that cannot be ignored, cannot be buried under the ground.
But it is, sometimes, isn’t it?
May I peel back the layers to show you what I created? May I show you what, in you, I see?
|| More Resources For You ||
“The way you get fit is to go to the gym and eat healthy, which isn’t always fun. But the way you build this lifestyle of working out and eating healthy is by committing to it, even if you don’t want to. That’s how you see results. The same is true of Bible reading. Just because some days you don’t feel like reading your Bible doesn’t mean you shouldn’t read it. It just means you must discipline yourself to do the things you don’t always feel like doing.” → Do you need more discipline in this area, sister? More delight? You can get more tips for building a consistent Bible-reading habit over at Rapt. But here’s one more I would add: expect Holy Spirit to delight you and to speak to you.
In a recent prayer for us, I heard God speak: “Enjoy freshness, new life, revitalization. To enjoy Me is the oldest question, the question buried deep within you—and its answer is one you've always known. For you know Me—let Me show you how you know Me. And to know Me is to enjoy Me, for I am loving you. Enjoy My gaze, for I love to look on you. Enjoy My touch, for I reach out to you, and your heart feels it. Enjoy My voice, My words, My promises, My love songs. I love to sing over you. I love teaching you the words to old and new songs to sing. Enjoy color and movement. Enjoy stillness, too. Enjoy the riches of My company. I am here. I love to be with you.” Now, if you’re able, let’s take a few minutes to respond …
Are you in a season of pruning right now? Perhaps the pain is more excruciating than you expected … and you’re wondering if God has forgotten you. Know this, sister: He hasn’t. He won’t. He can’t. Then, find comfort in these words, knowing you are one of many others who have experienced the pain that comes with becoming more like Jesus: “Many of us have lain on the altar in surrender only to see the knife. We ask for more of Jesus, forgetting that ‘being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another’ is painful, even death, to the old man in us (2 Corinthians 3:18). Like Eustace in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, we have layers and layers of dragon skin that require cutting. Christ says like Aslan, ‘You will have to let me undress you.’ Desperate to be rid of his scales, Eustace submits. Yet he later recalls, ‘The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt’ (474–75).” → From “Surrender All, Not Some” by our friends over at Desiring God.
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