THIS IS A BLOG I STARTED IN THE PHILLIPPINES (FEBRUARY) THAT
I NEVER GOT AROUND TO POSTING. It is also
not appropriate for a young audience J
I’ve always wanted to skinny dip. My best friend growing up
Katie and I tried one time at the beach, but it was an epic fail. We swam out
into the waves and tried to unhook our bathing suit tops while treading water.
We ended up chickening out and swimming back to the shoreline, giggling all the
way. There it is mom, my one obvious acts of rebellion during my teenage years.
I didn’t drink, curse, or smoke; I simply tried to flash the fish of the deep
blue sea. No purple beads were won that night, only the bragging rights of
attempted skinny-dipping. Hey, that was pretty hardcore for a straight-laced,
collared-shirt wearing fourteen-year-old Georgia peach.
Before I describe to you my experience with skinny-dipping,
first I need to give you a little insight of where I’m coming from. I’m
generally they type of woman who doesn’t worry too much about body image, which
I know is very unusual in this day in time. I don’t go to bed counting the
calories of what I ate that day, or stress about that last piece of cake I
devoured. I inherited my sweet tooth from my mother, who forced me to eat her
delicious death by chocolate cakes, oatmeal-raisin cookies, and milky key lime
pies (Mom, I’m going to need one of those when I get home!). Luckily, I also
inherited her metabolism and have a few good years left of eating how I please
until it all catches up with me (I also do really enjoy working out, which
helps with the sweet tooth!).
My father also played a huge role in establishing confidence
within myself. From a very young age, he spoke into me that I was a strong,
smart, and beautiful young woman. The older I get, the more I realize how
valuable those precious words were as I see women struggle day to day with
their identities and fight to be noticed or valued. Over the course of the
race, I’ve been learning my true identity in Christ, and what that looks like
in terms of beauty, confidence, and acceptance of myself as God made me.
It says in Genesis 1:27 that “God created man in his own
image, in the image of God he created him, male and female he created them.”
Notice that He said He created them “in His own image” twice. If we are created
in the image of our Almighty Father, which means we reflect His beauty, meaning
we look like Him. We reflect the glory and radiance of Christ through our
actions, words, and yes, even our appearance. We are “fearfully and wonderfully
made” in our best dress, oldest rags, and purest form, our naked body.
Remembering that truth, I’d like to share with you one of
the most freeing and purest moments I’ve ever experienced in my life. We
currently have no bathing water at the ministry location where we are living.
The water truck responsible for toting water to our camp every week was in an
accident, and is not able to transport water. So we’ve had to rely on the good
‘ole fashion way of bathing: putting buckets out and collecting rainwater.
To jazz up our bathing experience, our contact suggested
that we go to a fresh water spring, bring our shampoo, and bathe in the water. About
half or our group decided to go. So we loaded up the van with our shampoo,
towels, and bathing suits on. As we pulled up to the spring, I had a distinct
feeling that I was walking onto the set of the Swiss Family Robinsons. Remember that movie? They had everything
from zebras for transportation and a bamboo pipeline for water. This ‘lagoon’
had a creaky wood high dive and gooey seaweed-like substance floating in the
water. But, not having much a choice, we got in and started lathering up. The
girls had their time first, as the guys waited up by the car, a good distance
away. As I started to lather up, I remembered those failed attempts at
skinny-dipping and secret desires I’d always had to try it.
This would be a great time to do it. I thought to myself.
“Hey,” I said to the other women with me, “let’s take off
our suits and swim out to the dock.”
A chorus of ‘no’s,’ and ‘I’d be too nervous,’ and hemming
and hawing continued as I made up my mind to do it.
“Well, I’m going to do it.” I said as I pulled my top over
my head and threw my bottoms on the dock near by. Gasps and breaths and shrieks
escaped the mouths of my friends that day as my porcelain white body freestyle
swam it out to the floating dock, completely buck-naked (keep in mind we were
the only ones in the lagoon).
I pressed my palms on the wet, squishy wood and hoisted
myself up on the floating dock. One knee at a time, I stood up firmly on the
dock, and outstretched my arms to balance on the wobbly surface. As soon as I
got my footing, I looked up into the trees as the sunlight cast shadows all
over my naked body. I never felt more beautiful. I felt whole, new, and
completely alabaster before my God. I reached my hands out to the Heavens and
screamed at the top of my lungs, “I look like God!” And I truly felt it. I felt
like I looked like the Savior of the universe; made in His image, without make-up, a fancy dress, or my hair curled. Just
me and God, in my purest form.
