Moses, Psalms and the Makeup Connection

So as of this moment I have 14 days, 11 hours, 9 minutes and 18 seconds left till I can do a full face of makeup. And I'm excited.

But I'm not impatient. As a matter of fact I've turned a corner in this experiment. When we have somewhere to go I am ready in RECORD time. In order to feel a little prettier I have rediscovered my love of long dangly earrings (lost to the era of grabby handed baby Gabe). AND I have found and worn several items of long lost clothing that I love. And through these clothes, earrings, and flexibility I have also rediscovered some parts of my personality I'd sort of lost, first to corporate America (there's a strict dress code there) and then to SAH mommyhood (which is the opposite end of the dress code spectrum).

And lastly, and most importantly, I've had some big moments with the Lord. Doing some reading I ended up in the Psalms and was struck by the last sentence in chapter 42, "Hope in God for I will praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God."

Countenance means face, and here literally means an unhappy face. In this Psalm the author is broken hearted, he is crying out to God about the despair of his soul and he is saying that he knows the Lord is his strength, his key to peace and joy. The Psalmist is literally saying that God is his hope for a happy face, a poetic way of indicating the state of his spirit and his faith in God's ability to heal his spirit.

This got me thinking about the Bible's use of the word countenance. In Judges Samson's mother talks about the visitor that prophesied the birth of her child, and described him as a man of God with a "countenance like an angel". In Proverbs we get the verse "a merry heart makes a cheerful countenance". And in 2 Corinthians Paul is talking about the Lord's glory, and how after Moses received the Ten Commandments and walked back down the mountain, even though time had passed since he'd been in the presence of God "the children of Israel could not look steadily at Moses face because of the glory of his countenance".

Moses' encounter with God was evident on his face, physically visible.

I wear makeup and want to convey a certain identity and perception of myself. How selfish. How self-centered. My very face could tell of God's glory and I'm worried with whether my color blocked eye shadow is on trend.

I've spent the last few days inviting the Lord to move me, creating the opportunity to have a changing encounter with His glory and I have to tell you, I've had some epic moments with my God, produced by simply inviting Him into the moment with me, inviting Him to an encounter.

In a little more than 14 days I will go back to wearing makeup because I genuinely do love it and get joy out of playing with different colors and looks. But I will never again use it as a wall or tool to dictate a perception of myself. I don't want there to be a perception of me. I want God to be the health of my countenance, I want my very skin to shine with the glory of the Lord.

Living the Glam Life

I dreamt about eyeliner last night. And the eyeliner led to shadow and an eyelash curler and a beautiful smokey eye look. I know, I'm dreaming about eye makeup. Creeper right.

To be fair I am, and was last night as well, in the one place that I associate more with glamor, makeup, and primping than anywhere else on the planet. No I didn't spend the night in a Sephora, I'm in a hotel. I'm in a Hilton in Springfield, IL. Glamorous, no?

Growing up my whole extended family on my mom's side would take family vacations together around Christmas. We'd spend a week in a hotel in some place that was usually only two hours away from home and act like tourists. Shop at the big mall, eat at all the restaurants we could eat at back home, hang out in each others rooms and gorge on Christmas cookies. Mmm. Good times.

(Here's where this nostalgia ties in): These vacations were my first REAL exposure to makeup. Sure I'd seen my mom put on lipstick and mascara before, but she was never a makeup woman. She wore it but it was as clinical and necessary as brushing her teeth. But on these vacations I would watch my grandma apply her makeup and it was a whole different world. She would sit on her hotel bed, the sheets crisp and white, and she would spread a small towel next to her and unfold her makeup onto it, careful not to dirty the linens. She would carefully and lovingly apply her makeup, sitting back against the head board, sipping her coffee and watching the news. It was the most glamorous, sophisticated thing I have ever seen. She looked like Marilyn Monroe in a matching pajama set (often times in animal print) and her platinum blonde hair. And I fell in love with makeup, with the act of putting it on, with the art of being glamorous in such a minor daily routine.

All that to say that being here in this hotel room it is almost unnatural to not be blushing and curling eyelashes and and lining eyes while sitting on this cloud of a white bed.

Interestingly, though, even putting on my measly pittance of makeup, I still felt darn glamorous and beautiful walking out the door this morning.

I Feel Pretty

No I don't. It has not gotten easier to feel pretty or beautiful without my array of colors, correctors, and highlighters. I keep waiting for my "come to Jesus moment" and it's not happening.

Interestingly I find myself compensating in how I dress. Cute trendy clothes I haven't worn in ages either due to pregnancy weight or because of my SAHM status (I'm a clothes hoarder, I don't like to "waste" outfits on days at home) are finding their way out of my closet and onto my body. I'm guessing this isn't much better than a makeup covering.

The point of this particular intentional self-denial is getting fuzzy. Who cares if I need help feeling pretty. Who cares if I try to convey my hoped perception with makeup. Who cares if I am seriously financially and emotionally addicted?

I miss eyeliner.