This morning finds me curled up at home, drinking a pumpkin spice hot chocolate from my favorite burnt orange mug. And, of course watching Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It’s tradition. I’ll take care of dinner prep later [I'm brining pumpkin pie bars on a gingerbread crust-yum!].
I mean who can say no to snoopy
or this wholesome goodness?
When all of the sudden my eye caught a glimpse of the images plastered across the building on the corner; my heart sunk. I won’t expound other than to say she was a model, and I’m not sure what more she was modeling than her body.
It makes me angry to think that the little eyes that watch for kermit and snoopy and Sesame Street will in the next moment be violated by such an image. And we wonder why our children are growing up so fast?
There’s something closer to my heart, though.
Seeing the exploitive image of this woman causes a sorrow to rise in me for the loss of her heart. Of course one could argue it is her choice, her body. And it is. Yet, there is such a depth of beauty to behold in her. There is such a depth of beauty to behold in you, in me. It is images like these that pierce my heart with the realization that we have lost what it is to know and live in our beauty as women. For whatever reason [and there are reasons], there are few who truly revel in their created beauty; instead we hide [which could look like baggy turtlenecks or the billboard i saw this morning ... it could like like no make up or plastered on make-up ... it could look like being the "good girl" or the "party girl" or the "tough girl" ... we all hide in our own way].
This Thanksgiving, may we come out of hiding [at least a little]. May we enter into the reality of our created beauty. And may we find the courage to go beyond being thankful for our beauty and into a place of offering to others that they might know the beauty of their essence as well.