It’s funny how things take on a different meaning when you’re in a foreign country. Beauty has taken on a whole new concept here in the different places of the world. It doesn’t take time in the morning to get ready. Make-up isn’t a necessity. I haven’t looked in a mirror in days. Yet in the smallest moments, I feel my own beauty.
Service.
While spending my days in the hot sun, the crazy winds, sweat pouring off my body, unable to have a shower in a day or two I feel that I am made beautiful.
I am worth more than the actions of my hands but the heart that is behind my hands is what makes me beautiful.
The attitude I take into the situations, the peace I feel, the love that flows through my veins for the 5 other people I serve on a minute to minute basis, puts a smile on my face and that is beautiful.
Those moments when I am asked what is in my heart and I am heard with intent: I am beautiful.
When I know my worth is far beyond my words, my moves, my actions…when it’s more than my cup size, the amount of bricks I can move…I know I am beautiful.
This is a process. And a long one at that. I am far from fully understanding my beauty. It’s something that flows in my life. Some times I get it and all I want to do is help those I love get it. Other times I can’t even imagine what beauty would look, much less feel, like…. maybe the mistake we’ve made for too long is lumping beauty and worth in the same pot. Or maybe it’s that beauty doesn’t determine our worth. But worth can determine our beauty. I may not be right. But I’m not wrong either.
It’s only month two. I have no idea what’s in store. But we move. To Honduras please.
