This morning I was driving into the morning sun and I pulled down the visor mirror to take a look at my tired eyes. And they were indeed tired. The wrinkles were more pronounced than usual and the sun was hitting my face in such a way that I could really see them. And I got a bit emotional.
I can hear you now. You’re thinking, “Oh, great. Another one of those blogs where a 39 year old bemoans the fact that she’s no longer in her 20’s and goes on and on about her face and her body and her hair…”
No worries; you’re wrong. I got a bit emotional because I saw the white skin, the freckles, the hazel eyes–and I saw my sister Willa’s features. I love Willa…and her freckles…and her hazel eyes…and, yes, her wrinkles, and– in that love–I find love for myself.
My Mom was38 years old when I was born and my older sisters were teenagers. When I was eight two of my sisters started having babies and I became acquainted with such things as stretch marks. As a teenager I would play double solitaire with my Mom and I was fascinated with my Mom’s beautiful hands with pronounced veins and small wrinkles. When I was in my early 30’s my sister Starla’s hair turned from blond to a beautiful silver and she grew it to her shoulders and let it become a focal point.
Now when I look at Willa’s smile lines or Mom’s hand veins or Starla’s silver hair, I simply see those things as part of them. And I love these women. I see the beauty that shines through them. I think being the “young ‘un” in this family has been healthy for me because it’s helped me to see that no one really cares if I have a few extra wrinkles…or pounds…or gray hairs. If I am shining–full of love and joy–people see the light in me and they aren’t concerned with the bodily package.
I push the mirror visor up where it belongs, turn from it to the people in my life, and start SHINING!