What is beauty? Who determines who and what is beautiful? Why does it feel so important to be beautiful?
Haven't we all asked these questions or heard some speaker try to answer these? I feel like I get the mom response from them though, "it's not whats on the outside that counts, it's whats on the inside that really matters." Yes this may be true, but don't we all think the same thing, "oh man I must be not be beautiful, or else my mom wouldn't say the 'whats on the inside counts line,' or 'she's my mom she has to say that,' right? This is the case for me at least, and this is how I feel about beauty concerning myself, my culture and my future.
Growing up my sister was what I wanted to look like, actually what most woman want to look like, tall, blonde, curves in all the right places, perfect smooth hair and style. I for one don't fit this picture at all, especially not when I was a teenager. I always felt like I lived in the shadow of her beauty. I was the "funny one" but isn't that what girl who aren't beautiful do to be noticed. To say "hey yeah my sisters gorgeous but look at me (or at least hear what I have to say.)" Humor is a little bit of a guard I have that makes the awkward go away or lessons the pain of reality. But back to the focus, beauty, my sister isn't someone who I'd consider overly confident in her looks. Isn't this the sad reality that the beautiful girls never see there beauty. Some show fake modesty concerning their looks, but not my sister, I still don't think to this day she knows how beautiful she is. So coming up to present day, my sister lives out of town and when she moved away I felt like the shadow lifted. Don't get me wrong I love my sister dearly and miss her like crazy! But all the sudden I wasn't living with someone I daily compared my hair, stomach, and butt too. I know how shallow I sound, but if you are honest with yourself you probably have a person in your life you do the same thing to, even if she's on TV or movies. So I started feeling like I was thin enough and even embraced my hair more once I learned how to do it. This is how I've defined beauty for as long as I can remember then I got pregnant...dun dun dun.
This is where things start to change, as did my body of course. I suddenly wasn't confident in the skin I was in, understandably so when you gain 60 pounds in 9 months. My husband loved my new curves but I didn't care, I felt disgusting. I would ask my hubby if I looked this way to him and he was offended that I would even use this word to describe myself, but this is truly what I felt I looked like. The day I ripped my maternity jeans was a new low, that I don't know if I've gotten out of completely yet. But the whole time I was pregnant I was holding onto the hope that I would turn out like my mom and sister after their kids, super thin with few stretch marks. But to my horror after I had my beautiful baby girl, I looked down and saw that this was not going to the case. My legs had always been a vain point in my life, and they will never be again, I look and see that while I was pregnant a wild animal wrecked havoc on my thighs and hips! If I ever find this animal it better run! (See how I use humor to cover my pain?) But seriously, I was devastated! Everyone kept telling me that I looked great for just having a baby, but I never believed them. I mean granite I did look better, but I wan't myself and this broke my heart. I love my baby and would never change that part of my life, this is just me sharing how hard it is to have your definition of beauty rocked. At 3 weeks postpartum I started exercising, thinking that I have to get this weight off and get it off now! The weight is a constant reminder of all the pain I went through and the trauma it left me with. I want it gone and to never come back, the weight reminds me of how it felt to live at 200 pounds on my 5'4" frame. It reminds me that I'm not beautiful.
Today I'm 9 weeks 1 day postpartum, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. Done feeling like I have to live up to standards that aren't attainable for my body. Done feeling like I'm not good enough, not worthy for my husband to touch because of the ripples on my unperfected body. I'm done not feeling beautiful! I'm redirecting my focus of beauty, not the mom version but my version. My beauty is my smile that shines on the people I love, my hands that pick up my crying daughter, my breasts are the safe, warm place my husband lays his head at night, in my hair that holds only the color I was created to have. My beauty is held in how much I value the body that has been given to me, and it holds as you can see great value to me.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Crazy lil thing called DIGNITY
"What do you think of when you hear the word dignity? ...who do you think of? How do you picture dignity? Is it something you aspire to be? What would you change about yourself to be dignified?"- Rosalie de Rosset
When I think of the word dignity, I think of Michele Perry. A women who has never been married, purposefully lived on the streets in TX just to be able to reach those that are in need. She has one leg, but lives in Sudan as the "mother" of 100+ children. I think about how hard it can be to have 1 baby, and both my legs, I have yet to attain the selflessness she has to do this and do it well. The characteristic that makes me think of her in regards to dignity has to be her love, her love for God, her love for people and her love for herself. She speaks the truth even when it hurts (Psalm 15) she is courageous and stands for and speaks for those who can't. She doesn't let Satan get the best of her, because she is constantly giving the best of her away to others. She makes choices by walking in faith and know that God will always catch her when she leaps out. Dignity in how she carries herself on her crutches through the African bush. She is someone I look up to and hope to meet one day.
I do aspire to be dignified, I want to learn how to always have self- respect and be self- confident. I think those are the two starting points, without learning these first how can I speak, how can I carry myself in a dignified manner if I don't have the "self" about me to know what I think and that I'm grounded in it. I have to realized first that I'm not trying to be confident in how I look, it's about being confident and respecting who I am and who I aspire to be.
Self- possessed: Someone who has control of her longings and attendant feelings and behavior especially when under pressure.
This is what I truly desire. This is an area of weakness for me, I've always wanted to be able to express myself in public with control and poise without the regret of replay in my mind. I want to have the maturity to be able to control my tongue but also to use it with wisdom and discretion in my facial expressions.
"She is clothed with strength and dignity"- Proverbs 31:25
I feel like strength and dignity are my armor of God. I have to put on, clothe myself, in these areas. I have to cover myself daily with strength to stand as Lindsay Benhumea and know that that is enough. I have to cover myself daily with dignity to understand how to make choices that are righteous.
When I think of the word dignity, I think of Michele Perry. A women who has never been married, purposefully lived on the streets in TX just to be able to reach those that are in need. She has one leg, but lives in Sudan as the "mother" of 100+ children. I think about how hard it can be to have 1 baby, and both my legs, I have yet to attain the selflessness she has to do this and do it well. The characteristic that makes me think of her in regards to dignity has to be her love, her love for God, her love for people and her love for herself. She speaks the truth even when it hurts (Psalm 15) she is courageous and stands for and speaks for those who can't. She doesn't let Satan get the best of her, because she is constantly giving the best of her away to others. She makes choices by walking in faith and know that God will always catch her when she leaps out. Dignity in how she carries herself on her crutches through the African bush. She is someone I look up to and hope to meet one day.
I do aspire to be dignified, I want to learn how to always have self- respect and be self- confident. I think those are the two starting points, without learning these first how can I speak, how can I carry myself in a dignified manner if I don't have the "self" about me to know what I think and that I'm grounded in it. I have to realized first that I'm not trying to be confident in how I look, it's about being confident and respecting who I am and who I aspire to be.
Self- possessed: Someone who has control of her longings and attendant feelings and behavior especially when under pressure.
This is what I truly desire. This is an area of weakness for me, I've always wanted to be able to express myself in public with control and poise without the regret of replay in my mind. I want to have the maturity to be able to control my tongue but also to use it with wisdom and discretion in my facial expressions.
"She is clothed with strength and dignity"- Proverbs 31:25
I feel like strength and dignity are my armor of God. I have to put on, clothe myself, in these areas. I have to cover myself daily with strength to stand as Lindsay Benhumea and know that that is enough. I have to cover myself daily with dignity to understand how to make choices that are righteous.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Crazy little thing called TESTIMONY
"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living." Luke 15:13
When I was 12 I was washing the dishes one night, and I always listened to my cd's with headphones on while washing. I was listening to Phil Joels first cd, and Jesus touched my broken heart. You could say, you were only 12 and that was before Lady Gaga and the sexualzation of children, what could you be broken hearted about. I struggled my whole life, I mean whole life with sexual sin, from a very young age I felt like I was dirty and lived in shame. Puberty was a living hell, as I tried my hardest to combat this sexual force driving me at a young age. But that day washing the dishes and listening to music, I realized I couldn't combat this on my own and I wanted to feel clean. Like the dishes I was washing I needed to be washing clean with the blood of Christ. I knew this being raised in a God fearing home (thank You JESUS!) I went into the bathroom, the only place of solitude in a small house, and got on my face, and cried out in my heart for God to help me. I felt so lost and confused in my mind and needed to be free from the bondage of shame. Of course at 12 I didn't realize how much shame I was carrying. I confessed the sins I was aware of and got of the floor, sparkling clean.
After this God encounter, I was a changed little girl. I loved reading my Bible and studied it with my Bible dictionary for hours a day! Still listening to music the whole time, I was daily filled and couldn't get enough. I found a new love in writing, it didn't matter what style I was writing in either. Poetry was my main focus, not rhyming poems but beautiful ones about how glorious Christ is and how I can see His face and feel Him always. Jesus was truly my best friend.
The thing about Satan is that he is very subtle. If you leave the front door to your heart open just a crack he will transform into something that looks safe and slip in oh so stealthily. That is exactly what he did with me. At 15 I went to a Christian school, and suddenly I didn't have the hours to spend with my Best Friend. I didn't have my solitude to recharge in. All I was surrounded by was superficiality, and I didn't know how to fit into that. People were having sex, struggling with eating disorders, and vanity. I felt lost in this small school. Thankfully I had Bible class, which I aced without effort. I was still a good girl, breaking up with my first boyfriend because he wanted to kiss me and he swore. I was very strong in what i believed and didn't care what people thought of me. Which carried into the rest of my life, not in the best way.
Jump forward to 17, had a boyfriend that I would loose my virginity to. He was abusive in every way, I was controlled in every aspect of my life. I thought I was just being a good girl friend. My old fashion ideology failed me by not questioning him and not questioning myself. My Dad eventually rescued me from this relationship by making me choose "him or your family." It sounds really harsh looking back, but it needed to be done. My Dad knew that this was the only way to break the spell he had on me. That was that. But from then on I took sex and myself not very seriously. I forgot about my Best Friend, He couldn't make me feel the way these boys did. To be honest I can't see why I would stop talking to Him, but like I said I left the door of my sexuality open. I never wanted Him to control this area for me. This was mine! I had to control it, no one else. I became promiscuous and didn't care, I even got back with the boy that took my virginity just so I could sleep with him and never talk to him again, in hopes to hurt him like he hurt me. Instead it just made me feel more shameful. I buried everything, and my shovel to bury it with was alcohol. I loved the stuff, it made me happy when I thought it was impossible. I made me feel loved when I couldn't love myself. But what I loved the most was that it made me forget for a little bit what I had done, what had been done to me, and what kind of life I was going to have if I continued. I would tell myself that I wasn't an alcoholic, I was just having fun. But I realized that the only days I didn't drink were hang over days. This didn't stop me, I loved tequila, I kept a bottle in my closet(like symbolism much?) I would travel to parties with a bottle in my trunk, or a flask in my purse. I was underage this whole time. I had also issues with failure since a finance broke up with me and I quit the USAF. Then I met a guy who needed me, we were very codependent and toxic to each other. But he was a constant reminder that I was running away from my Best Friend. This guy didn't believe in God, that there was one, that He created the heavens and the Earth, that He was the one who first stole heart. This made me face head on if I would defend my God who's face I'd spit in for years or continue to send Him to voice mail. For over a year of being with this guy I did hit the ignore button on God. But since I had the Holy Spirit in me since I was 12 and baptism of the Holy Spirit since I was 14, He was constantly making me face my choices. I was like I was running down a black ally and the faster I would run the more He would put a screen in front of my eyes of Him on the cross for me. Not a guilt ridden, "This is what I did for you," but rather, "Come take up your cross and follow Me." I didn't want to, but then I started getting scared every time I would drive, I would think, "where will I go if I crash?" "if i do make it to heaven, what will God the Father say to me, and will Jesus have a disappointed look?" "will I get into heaven by the skin of my teeth?" "Do I deserve to even think that I could get into heaven?" I had these thoughts almost daily, but I would try to ignore them till my next shot of liquor or sexual escaped. These were my distractions, my "feel goods." God would chase me where ever I went, He was calling me home. Then one day, after I left this guys house. I was driving and very matter of fact that I was done living this life. I wasn't emotional about it yet, I called him and broke up with him and told him that he's never hear from me again. Once again that was that. The sexual addiction was hard to get past but I did day by day, I fell a couple times, but got back up and asked for forgiveness and tried to not look back. Alcohol was a little harder, because it didn't involve anyone but myself. But then at one party I knew this was my last party, I stayed up all night and had a lot of fun. I drank a 6 pack of Miller Chill, and watched the sunrise on a barn roof with a beer in my hand and in my bare feet. I still drank at restaurants but never went to bars, and never got drunk again.
I just gave you a run through of my whole life up until 3 years ago. So think of it this way, like I did. I was a Jesus freak turned alcoholic, fornicator, blasphemer, selfish, lustful, vain, lair, user, thief, and very angry 22 year old. It had been almost 10 years since I had been with my Best Friend. We had a lot to catch up on. He was very gracious, and shared with me things about Himself like we had never lost time. I never knew what gifts of the Spirit I had, but I always was drawn toward anything and everything prophetic. God started showing me new things about myself too, and He liked to do this by showing me visions of how He sees me. Not like in a dream, totally different, I'm talking wide awake and He takes me to a different place in my mind. He showed me visions of my husband and I, whom I met only 5 months after being reawakened by Christ. He showed me that we will adopt, and have heart for children. All this happened because I completely changed, old friends didn't know me anymore, and God blessed me with new ones, seemingly daily. I went to church, I went on to be a leader in the youth group, I had a mentor, and joined a Bible study on top of professional counseling. See I had a lot of shame and failure to work out of my soul. I still have more that is coming to the surface and is being dealt with. My whole identity for years had been those awful sinful characteristics. But now I was supposed to believe that all those had been washed away? What!? I then dealt with guilt and making myself suffer, because I felt I needed to be punished. But the punishment never came, I was confused when great things kept happening in my life and my family. I was always waiting for the bomb to drop, for all I loved to go up in a mushroom cloud of "this is what you deserve." It never happened, instead God brought my family closer, gave me a husband, my dream wedding, travel, great jobs for Diego and I, a wonderful home, cars given to us! I didn't know what to think! Why wasn't God punishing me for all I put Him through, for all I put my family through, for all that I had done to His other children around me? But now I see through my own child what parental love is all about. I only know human love, and can't comprehend the things Father has done for me. My story is a prodigal one, but I think so many of us are. So don't be like me and want and wait for punishment. Instead enjoy the fattened calf and the celebration going on in heaven that the son (daughter) has come home.
"..we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." Luke 15:32
When I was 12 I was washing the dishes one night, and I always listened to my cd's with headphones on while washing. I was listening to Phil Joels first cd, and Jesus touched my broken heart. You could say, you were only 12 and that was before Lady Gaga and the sexualzation of children, what could you be broken hearted about. I struggled my whole life, I mean whole life with sexual sin, from a very young age I felt like I was dirty and lived in shame. Puberty was a living hell, as I tried my hardest to combat this sexual force driving me at a young age. But that day washing the dishes and listening to music, I realized I couldn't combat this on my own and I wanted to feel clean. Like the dishes I was washing I needed to be washing clean with the blood of Christ. I knew this being raised in a God fearing home (thank You JESUS!) I went into the bathroom, the only place of solitude in a small house, and got on my face, and cried out in my heart for God to help me. I felt so lost and confused in my mind and needed to be free from the bondage of shame. Of course at 12 I didn't realize how much shame I was carrying. I confessed the sins I was aware of and got of the floor, sparkling clean.
After this God encounter, I was a changed little girl. I loved reading my Bible and studied it with my Bible dictionary for hours a day! Still listening to music the whole time, I was daily filled and couldn't get enough. I found a new love in writing, it didn't matter what style I was writing in either. Poetry was my main focus, not rhyming poems but beautiful ones about how glorious Christ is and how I can see His face and feel Him always. Jesus was truly my best friend.
The thing about Satan is that he is very subtle. If you leave the front door to your heart open just a crack he will transform into something that looks safe and slip in oh so stealthily. That is exactly what he did with me. At 15 I went to a Christian school, and suddenly I didn't have the hours to spend with my Best Friend. I didn't have my solitude to recharge in. All I was surrounded by was superficiality, and I didn't know how to fit into that. People were having sex, struggling with eating disorders, and vanity. I felt lost in this small school. Thankfully I had Bible class, which I aced without effort. I was still a good girl, breaking up with my first boyfriend because he wanted to kiss me and he swore. I was very strong in what i believed and didn't care what people thought of me. Which carried into the rest of my life, not in the best way.
Jump forward to 17, had a boyfriend that I would loose my virginity to. He was abusive in every way, I was controlled in every aspect of my life. I thought I was just being a good girl friend. My old fashion ideology failed me by not questioning him and not questioning myself. My Dad eventually rescued me from this relationship by making me choose "him or your family." It sounds really harsh looking back, but it needed to be done. My Dad knew that this was the only way to break the spell he had on me. That was that. But from then on I took sex and myself not very seriously. I forgot about my Best Friend, He couldn't make me feel the way these boys did. To be honest I can't see why I would stop talking to Him, but like I said I left the door of my sexuality open. I never wanted Him to control this area for me. This was mine! I had to control it, no one else. I became promiscuous and didn't care, I even got back with the boy that took my virginity just so I could sleep with him and never talk to him again, in hopes to hurt him like he hurt me. Instead it just made me feel more shameful. I buried everything, and my shovel to bury it with was alcohol. I loved the stuff, it made me happy when I thought it was impossible. I made me feel loved when I couldn't love myself. But what I loved the most was that it made me forget for a little bit what I had done, what had been done to me, and what kind of life I was going to have if I continued. I would tell myself that I wasn't an alcoholic, I was just having fun. But I realized that the only days I didn't drink were hang over days. This didn't stop me, I loved tequila, I kept a bottle in my closet(like symbolism much?) I would travel to parties with a bottle in my trunk, or a flask in my purse. I was underage this whole time. I had also issues with failure since a finance broke up with me and I quit the USAF. Then I met a guy who needed me, we were very codependent and toxic to each other. But he was a constant reminder that I was running away from my Best Friend. This guy didn't believe in God, that there was one, that He created the heavens and the Earth, that He was the one who first stole heart. This made me face head on if I would defend my God who's face I'd spit in for years or continue to send Him to voice mail. For over a year of being with this guy I did hit the ignore button on God. But since I had the Holy Spirit in me since I was 12 and baptism of the Holy Spirit since I was 14, He was constantly making me face my choices. I was like I was running down a black ally and the faster I would run the more He would put a screen in front of my eyes of Him on the cross for me. Not a guilt ridden, "This is what I did for you," but rather, "Come take up your cross and follow Me." I didn't want to, but then I started getting scared every time I would drive, I would think, "where will I go if I crash?" "if i do make it to heaven, what will God the Father say to me, and will Jesus have a disappointed look?" "will I get into heaven by the skin of my teeth?" "Do I deserve to even think that I could get into heaven?" I had these thoughts almost daily, but I would try to ignore them till my next shot of liquor or sexual escaped. These were my distractions, my "feel goods." God would chase me where ever I went, He was calling me home. Then one day, after I left this guys house. I was driving and very matter of fact that I was done living this life. I wasn't emotional about it yet, I called him and broke up with him and told him that he's never hear from me again. Once again that was that. The sexual addiction was hard to get past but I did day by day, I fell a couple times, but got back up and asked for forgiveness and tried to not look back. Alcohol was a little harder, because it didn't involve anyone but myself. But then at one party I knew this was my last party, I stayed up all night and had a lot of fun. I drank a 6 pack of Miller Chill, and watched the sunrise on a barn roof with a beer in my hand and in my bare feet. I still drank at restaurants but never went to bars, and never got drunk again.
I just gave you a run through of my whole life up until 3 years ago. So think of it this way, like I did. I was a Jesus freak turned alcoholic, fornicator, blasphemer, selfish, lustful, vain, lair, user, thief, and very angry 22 year old. It had been almost 10 years since I had been with my Best Friend. We had a lot to catch up on. He was very gracious, and shared with me things about Himself like we had never lost time. I never knew what gifts of the Spirit I had, but I always was drawn toward anything and everything prophetic. God started showing me new things about myself too, and He liked to do this by showing me visions of how He sees me. Not like in a dream, totally different, I'm talking wide awake and He takes me to a different place in my mind. He showed me visions of my husband and I, whom I met only 5 months after being reawakened by Christ. He showed me that we will adopt, and have heart for children. All this happened because I completely changed, old friends didn't know me anymore, and God blessed me with new ones, seemingly daily. I went to church, I went on to be a leader in the youth group, I had a mentor, and joined a Bible study on top of professional counseling. See I had a lot of shame and failure to work out of my soul. I still have more that is coming to the surface and is being dealt with. My whole identity for years had been those awful sinful characteristics. But now I was supposed to believe that all those had been washed away? What!? I then dealt with guilt and making myself suffer, because I felt I needed to be punished. But the punishment never came, I was confused when great things kept happening in my life and my family. I was always waiting for the bomb to drop, for all I loved to go up in a mushroom cloud of "this is what you deserve." It never happened, instead God brought my family closer, gave me a husband, my dream wedding, travel, great jobs for Diego and I, a wonderful home, cars given to us! I didn't know what to think! Why wasn't God punishing me for all I put Him through, for all I put my family through, for all that I had done to His other children around me? But now I see through my own child what parental love is all about. I only know human love, and can't comprehend the things Father has done for me. My story is a prodigal one, but I think so many of us are. So don't be like me and want and wait for punishment. Instead enjoy the fattened calf and the celebration going on in heaven that the son (daughter) has come home.
"..we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." Luke 15:32
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