Debrief was at the beginning of this month. We spent four days as a whole squad, filling each other and ourselves up after pouring out in ministry for the past two months. During this debrief I’m talking to one of my friends and I don’t quite remember how we got to this topic but through a series of conversations with her I eventually utter with a laugh, “If God wanted me to give up makeup He would have to take tell me by writing it on my mirror with my eyeliner.”
Disclosure: If you want God to tell you to do something, joke about how He would never tell you to do that.
Two nights later we’re having a time where it’s just the women of the squad, and as we’re talking I feel a nudge from the Holy Spirit. Fast from makeup next month. Noooo. Are you serious? I really, really don’t want to! I love wearing makeup. But I know it’s from Him and I know if I don’t pipe up soon I’ll forget about it and chalk it up to something other than divinity. So I speak it out that God is telling me to give up makeup next month so all these girls can hold me accountable. But here’s the thing, even though I know it’s going to be hard to do, really hard, I know that I’m going to Mozambique in some desolate area with two other teams and I’ll have no one to impress so it won’t be that difficult. I can do this.
Four days later we’ve given up getting into Mozambique and we’re traveling to where we’ll be staying in Malawi. We pull up and surprise! We’re staying at a hostel for the month. I’m immediately acutely aware that I’m going to be without makeup at this place where there are new and interesting world travelers coming in and out on a daily basis. I think, “You’re funny, God.” The first few days aren’t too bad. But a week in, I’m sitting on the porch of the hostel and I see a huge bus pull up and it’s full of 28 really cute guys. (Lexi urged me to make note that I was told there were 28 of them and I didn’t count them like a creeper.) And as they’re trickling in and introducing themselves to me, I realize how much not having on cute clothes and makeup is weirding me out.
I don’t feel like myself. I feel an intense urge to go get “cute” so that I will be seen by these guys. I end up talking to a guy who is a believer for a couple hours and I say something that is natural for me to say and as he laughs I think, “Wait, I’m still me? He sees me? How could he think I’m funny? I have something to offer him in this conversation even though I don’t feel pretty right now?” That day was really tough for me.
Later that night I pondered on the thoughts I had in that moment of talking to him and those thoughts scared me. I couldn’t figure out how I had come to have such a twisted view of who I am. I realized that I’ve been dangerously unaware of how much I clung to makeup and outer beauty for my own self-worth for a really long time. Until now, I’ve never had anyone pull it away from me so until now I’ve never had to think about just how tightly I’ve been gripping it. That day, The Day of the 28 Cute Boys, is a day I will remember for a long time. It was a breaking point and a turning point. That day God showed me that my identity had been wrapped up and smothered by my perception of my own outer beauty.
I’m so thankful that I listened and obeyed God’s voice that night at debrief. God is so faithful. I had no idea at the time the heart change that would come from a simple act of not wearing makeup for one month. My heart longs for other girls and women to have these same revelations. I truly feel like I had this horrible infected splinter, the belief that my worth somehow correlated with my appearance. God is still working on my wound but I know that The Day of the 28 Cute Boys was the day my Dad said, “Close your eyes baby because this is going to hurt.” And he dug in to get out the deepest part of that splinter.
