Friday, November 22, 2013

beauty obsessed

dear emily,

when i was your age, i went days without moisturizer much less makeup.  
NOT because i was overwhelmed with keeping up with five children, but
because i had a makeup addiction.   the acknowledgement of my disorder
led me to fast beauty products for a season.

my poor husband never said a word except, "i like you better without it."
he also has said, "i like you better with some meat on your bones."  what
a gift.   him, not the extra 'meat'.

i realize now that my beauty obsession had its roots in a comment from my
father when i was young.  i have a gorgeous mother and not the kind of
beauty that requires eyeliner or even lipstick.   she rises from her sleep with
a pink flush on her perfect cheekbones.   i was proud when she walked the
halls of my highschool, because she was prettier than the cheerleaders.

when my dad said, "you will never be as beautiful as your mother," i thought,
"well, duh."  i don't think he meant to be cruel but was complimenting her, as
i was outgrowing my awkward, cygnet years.   he didn't realize how hurtful
the remark was to his seventeen year old daughter.

how kind of the Lord to give me a husband who loves my heart.  "beauty, oh
beauty, where is thy sting?"

now, let me just say that i have a loving relationship with my father, and i
still like makeup.  every barn needs a nice coat of paint.   this is a fun beauty
blog written by a young friend.  

love,
lea

"it came about when he came near to egypt, that he said to sarah his wife,
'see now, i know that you are a beautiful woman . . . '"  genesis 12:11






Tuesday, November 19, 2013

"Preaching to the choir"

Dear Emily,

Many people have a presumption about choir members, thinking we
are all goody-goodies.   nope.   I have a funny story to disprove it.

Caution:  leave this blog now if you can't take a little pg-13.   Some
of our choir members are in highschool and college, and they are
delightfully talented and refreshingly guileless.

In between services, some of us were standing in line in the ladies'
room, when one of our young choir members said, "I have a secret
admirer at school."

That got my attention.   "How do you know?"

"He leaves notes on my car."

Now, I was totally intrigued.  "What do they say?"

"The last one said, 'You have a great ass.'"

When I saw the horrified expression on the face of the woman NOT
in the choir,  I said, "I'm pretty sure, you can't say that in a choir
robe."

Love,
Lea

"When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, He said of him, 'Here is a
true Israelite, in whom there is no guile.'"




Thursday, November 7, 2013

tag, you're it!

dear emily,

it's been fun reconnecting with old highschool and college friends on
facebook.    no matter how much time has passed, we have an instant
rebonding that boggles my brain and delights my heart.  

it is not delightful, however, when people 'tag' me in photos.   my page
is smothered with odious pictures that i did NOT choose or want.    it
reminds me of my least favorite childhood game, 'tag.'   i would die a
thousand deaths once tagged, because i was never fast enough to tag
anyone else.   in my case, once tagged forever 'it.'

right now i have a photo, front and center, of my jiggly, fat arms.    i
haven't removed it, because i didn't want to hurt the person's feelings
who tagged me.   wow.   i just reread that and realize that i may need
counseling.    wait, just a sec . . .  ok,  i just untagged myself and feel
so much better.

now, there are still unflattering pics of my aging face but i'm resigned
to that.   when friends from my distant past first visit my facebook page,
they all say the same thing.

"look at your sweet face."  sweet is the new 'old.'

love,
lea

"but people do not pour new wine into old wineskins . . . " mark 2:22





Friday, November 1, 2013

still the one

dear emily,

i spied hans driving to work as i finished my walk.
this is unusual, because  he usually leaves before i
even wake up.   i know, no "here's your scrambled
eggs and bacon, honey."

my justification?   i would rather he remember me
from the night before than the morning before.

anyway, he motioned me to his car.

"they're playing our song."

we have a song?   i leaned in to hear shania twain's
twangy, "still the one i run to, the only one i belong
to . . ."

for dang certain,
lea

ps.   "love must be sincere.  hate what is evil; cling
to what is good."   romans 12:9