. . . and then some more . . . More life. More Jesus.

Invisible Skin

I wonder if Adam and Eve had invisible skin before the Fall.  Completely comfortable in the translucency of their flesh, unafraid of who they were in their own skin.  I wonder because sometimes I’m not comfortable with who I am, and I’m glad for the callouses and the scars that hide the stories behind them.  And still other times, I try so hard to hide inside of my own skin, that I start to despise it and wish I could just let the real me out for everyone to see.

But what if we all had invisible skin?  Figuratively, of course (because let’s face it, I do not deal well with the sight of blood.  ‘Nuff said.)  What if no one could hide their true selves?  What if we couldn’t cover up our scars or our thin skin?  What if blisters didn’t turn into hard callouses and burns didn’t cause maiming?  Would we somehow be more ready to accept the true that others are?  Might we somehow be unafraid to show our true selves for all that they are and trust that God will show His beautiful image in us anyway?  Somehow?

I wonder what life might be like if we all walked around in invisible skin.  I wonder what we would find.  God’s Word says we would find beauty and strength.  Redeemed and forgiven.  So why is it so hard to live as if I were enveloped inside see-through flesh, showing only the truth of who I am?  Unafraid to show the truth of the scars and the callouses?

If I were to show you some of those through invisible skin, here’s some of what you might see in me . . .

That scar right in the middle of the top of my nose.  The one I’ve had since I picked a chicken pox scab when I was four.  Well, right underneath, you’d probably see God’s abundant care and provision.  The kind He used my mom to give when she held me and rocked me and dabbed calomine all over my itchy, icky spots of dread.

And that callous on my finger.  The one I got from holding the pen so tight as I journaled through that broken-hearted misery of loneliness and betrayal.  Well, I’m pretty sure you’d find beauty underneath that one.  You’d probably see Jesus building me and convincing me of who He really made me.  It would have Ephesians 1 written all over it.  The truth of who I am because of what Jesus did.

That thick skin on my heels?  You know, the stuff I had to develop if I wanted to walk anywhere in this world, ever?  Yeah, well right there on those heels, I believe you would see Jesus Christ.  My shoes of peace.  The ones I never walk without.  Never.  Because I truly cannot walk anywhere with any semblance of life without the peace of God that Jesus gives me.

God created me to reflect Him.  His beauty.  And yet, more often than not, I don’t feel beautiful.  In fact I have an uncanny ability to convince myself that I am much less than.  And at the same time, so much more than anyone can handle.

According to John and Stasi Eldridge in their book Captivating, that sums up the great Question of a woman’s heart.  “Am I lovely?  Am I enough?  Am I too much?”  Truth is, only God can answer that Question.  Truth is, I let other things, other people, answer it for far too long.  “If anyone saw the real you, the one behind the pretend strength you carry so well, they would run for the hills!”  And the wrong answer led me to less than living.  The NOT life that Jesus came to destroy with His REAL life.  I was bound up by my callouses and scars and thick skin.

But once I let God answer my Question, and listened to only Him, I was set free to live.  Really live.  And I have found that I don’t need the thick skin on my heels anymore.  I don’t want to hide my scars.  Because that’s where His beauty shines best.

And where His beauty shines, so does mine.

2 Thoughts on “Invisible Skin

  1. Kari Richards on July 16, 2011 at 5:30 pm said:

    Thanks, Bria! Well said. Thanks for sharing…

What do you say?

Post Navigation