Beauty for Ashes - A story of upside-down worldviews

Yesterday, my husband asked me to return a wood-stove installment kit to Home Depot for him while he was at work. As a homeschooling mom of (almost) 4, my children and I are currently enjoying a lovely summer break here in the southwest USA, just like the rest of the kids in the country are doing. With no school schedule in the way, I’m able to run these types of errands for my husband while he’s at work without any disruption to our day and still complete the rest of my household work (more or less) before he gets home. I try to get everything done before 6 these days so we can have family time together each evening, so we can work roughly the same hours and then enjoy each other the rest of the night. My hubby is a homebody, and I’m a social butterfly, so we meet in the middle by spending most evenings together as a family but keeping a few nights a week open for social time. However, because I like to be out and about, I must confess that now that we’re living in the country, having an excuse to load all the kids up into the van and take a trip into town can be kind of a fun adventure. Yes, I know the thoughts that many people could have in response to those first few sentences. Stay at home mom? Running errands “for” your husband? Taking a trip into town is a fun adventure? 4 children? You poor, sheltered woman! 
My career-minded acquaintances often look at me with such pity when I say these kinds of things. Somehow, many women today seem to view a professional career as freedom, where as working from home seems sexist and demeaning toward women. They find power and identity in their roles in the workplace, but a stay at home mom is often viewed as a weak minded woman or wasted potential – as if submitting herself to the authority of a loving husband is slavery – showing her to be some kind of a doormat, where as submitting herself under the authority of an emotionally disinterested man in an office setting makes her independent and worthy of respect.

In my pride, I often get angry about those pitiful glances or ignorant tongue in cheek (or sometimes just flat out blatant) comments from people. I say that my anger comes from pride, because usually I’m not operating in “righteous anger” which would be justified… but out of haughtiness, because I like to feel respected and strong, and I don’t like people patronizing me or incorrectly judging my role. There have been a few rare times when I believe I’ve had some glimpses of ”righteous anger” in this area because I know that this is the role God has called me to, and has blessed me with. It is not something to be pitied, and I know it. I know that my role as a wife and a mom is not easy, and that laying myself down daily for others is not something that comes naturally to me – it’s tough work! It does take quite a bit of strength, and I believe that according to the Bible, my ‘title’ is worthy of respect – though I should not demand or expect it from people.  

So, with all that being said and a little more insight into who I am (or at least what I do and what I think about it), I’ll return to my little excursion to Home Depot yesterday.

It was a typical outing. At 1:30, after we’d all finished eating our beans and grilled cheese sandwiches, I told the kids it was time to go. By 2:15, they had all finally finished cleaning up their places at the lunch table, washed their faces, brushed their teeth, gone potty once or twice, put their shoes on, put their shoes on again – this time on the correct feet, hemmed and hawed about which toy they should each bring along for the car ride, and eventually piled into the van. My husband had already loaded the (very large) box into the van for me, not wanting me to lift it as I am pregnant. But when I arrived at Home Depot there were no workers available to help me lift it out (much to my frustration, as I’d told my hubby I would ask someone to help me). In fact, there were hardly any workers on staff at all, other than the tiny woman at the customer service desk and the elderly gentleman at one of the checkout isles that looked about the same height as the box in my van due to his diminishing posture. So, I grabbed a cart, grabbed my 3 kids, and back out we went to the van with each child holding on to the cart as we all walked very awkwardly across the parking lot, with me trying to push the cart at an adult’s speed and all my kids with various-lengthed legs shuffling along with it and stepping on each others’ feet, like a big demented caterpillar. 

 (Yes, we are pretty much always a spectacle now whenever we go out.) I was happy to find that the box was actually not very heavy – just very large and cumbersome… so sliding it into the cart was not concerning to me as much as it was… well, awkward. As I slid it inch by inch, slowly and gently in a way that I knew would be most honoring to my husband’s wishes (when I wanted to just pick the thing up and chuck it in the cart), I felt like a whale attempting to get my arms around it with my big belly in the way, instructing my little helpers (who were all now more interested in using the cart as an object of tug-o-war rather than in helping me) to hold the cart in place for me as I balanced the box on top of it. My youngest daughter then tugged on my shirt and pointed hesitantly to the left of us. I looked up to see two men in a truck right beside us, grinning ear to ear at us from the open window and chuckling as if we were grand entertainment. It was all I could do to smile back at them rather than waddle over there and smack them both.

Now at 34 weeks pregnant, I feel a little like a really fat Clint-Eastwood… moseying around with that signature frozen-hipped swagger, with wincing eyes and tight lips due to the bowling ball between my legs and the excess hormones in my blood. Good thing I don’t own a gun.

So here I was rolling the cart in and around the store, huffing and waddling with my little symbiotic entourage gripping on to the sides. When I arrived at the customer service desk, my children began chiming in unison their pleas to be set free from the cart and allowed to play beside me. I gave my consent, but reminded them of the rules, and they nodded vigorously as they happily began engaging in a lively game of princesses and superheroes. Once it was finally my turn to speak to the woman at the counter, I had to interrupt our (very long) conversation once or twice to remind my children of the rules again (“inside voices guys”, “hands off the display case guys” and later “You JUST went to the bathroom… You can hold it!”) Around this time, a smug looking lady strolled by and shook her head at me. “I sure don’t envy you!” She chortled. Enter the Clint Eastwood eyes and the pregnancy hormone charged blood beginning to boil a little.

I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me as I saw my own pride creeping at the doorway of offense. I looked down at my children, who had all heard what she said, and gave them each a little smile. Then I looked up at her and answered loudly “It’s all worth it.” When we got back into the van and began driving home, I thought about what the woman had said, and about how far the Lord has brought me over the course of the last 10 years. God has changed my life radically in this time period, and is continuing to teach me so much about worldly ‘treasure’ VS true and lasting treasure in Him. He has shown me that the wisdom of the world is completely upside down – that the things we chase after in our flesh are meaningless – promising satisfaction and richness of life, but leading only to destruction. But the things of the Spirit – the treasure that only He can offer us – that is what brings truth, victory, fullness of joy and peace… this is where we find life. I know this, because I have been on both ends of the spectrum. I have experienced earthly “success”, and the death and decay that it brings, and I have experienced true freedom, life and victory through the knowledge of Jesus Christ and the relationship I now have with Him – something I would not trade for all the riches of the world.

Not long ago, I was living a much different life than I am now here in the Bible Belt of good ol’ USA. I wasn’t known to outsiders as that awkward, scatterbrained mom of a multitude waddling through Home Depot with a beach ball between her legs and a Clint Eastwood glint in her eye. In fact, I was viewed as much the opposite. Graceful. Glamorous. Successful. Powerful. My profession put me on a sort of pedestal to those who were gullible enough to be disillusioned by it – after all, the whole aim of my job was to convince the women around me that I was exactly who they should aspire to be. I was a professional model, working internationally between Toronto and New York – walking runways, posing for magazines, shooting commercials, you name it. A little different than the woman described in the first few paragraphs.

One day, while working in Toronto I was walking down the street when I was approached by two very enthusiastic college students who were enthralled by the work of one of the young and very successful photographers that I worked with regularly. He had attended the same college as these two students and had risen to fame very quickly, shooting for very prestigious magazines and becoming well known in the industry and the fashion world. By the time he was 19, he had it all by the world’s standards, and became somewhat of an idol to many of the other photography students at the college he graduated from. This photographer (who I had a soft spot for and loved dearly, but who was secretly a very sad individual who eventually ended up committing suicide – shortly after this encounter) worked with me often during the beginning of his career, and many of the photo shoots we did together contributed to his rising fame. He favored my particular look and had referred to me as “his muse” in an interview he had done with the college, and the girl and guy that approached me seemed to view me in the same way. They ran up to me excitedly, calling me by name, though I had never met either of them. I was surprised, because models are not normally known by their names. We are usually just faceless, nameless, voiceless mannequins used by the media to be whatever they want us to be. They both began to explain that they were photography students who basically idolized the work of this photographer, and that they both thought I was “amazing”. They asked to take a cell phone picture with me, and then before hurrying off in typical Torontonian fashion, one of them said “I totally envy you.” 

I remember feeling bewildered and disappointed as I watched these two (clearly blind) people run off so full of energy, knowing that they were running in vain, on a wheel that would not satisfy. After all, that was how I felt. I knew Christ, and I knew that this world I worked in was a stark contrast to the life and the fullness I could only have in Him. It was sad, scary and discouraging at times to be so immersed in a world full of darkness that so obviously idolized the flesh… always chasing the wind – fashions that change daily, body types that are not naturally attainable (even to the models that flaunt them), foods or pills or products that make empty claims and promises, success, money, fame – all these things used as bait by our enemy, only to enslave minds and bodies in an endless cycle of chasing and never reaching, of bowing down to worthless gods that end up disappointing or betraying them, and constantly filling and filling their aching stomachs with empty ash that never satisfies. And I as someone who professed Christ – the Light of the world - was supposed to be a tool to promote all this. This was my job. I was the unattainable object for women to aspire to be, or the voice in the ad convincing them of the next product they must covet, or the body that showcased the style of fashion that they should pour out their money for, and replicate as soon as possible. At this time, I had begun to feel convicted about my role in all of this and to ask God for a purpose in all of it, which would somehow bring Glory to Him rather than glorifying my flesh or the power of the industry. I did find opportunities to share my faith with photographers, makeup artists and other models, but it was easy to grow weary without seeing any fruit from it. Eventually, God did use this dark time in my life and turn it into something good, leading me into authoring a blog about modeling the truth of real, lasting, spiritual beauty to our culture, as a contrast to the lies of the modeling industry that I knew so well. I had a speaking ministry that followed the blog, and was able to minister to women of all ages about real truth, real beauty, and the gospel of Christ. But at this time, this was only a mere seed in my mind, and as the opportunity left me I was left on the sidewalk speechless, sad and frustrated, having offered no words of truth to these people as they blindly assumed that my job (for that’s all they saw when they saw me) was something worth envying.

Thinking about the distinction between this picture from the past and this scenario from yesterday, I am both grateful and saddened to be able to see the way that the world has skewed what true success and value mean. The kids on the sidewalk envied me because of their perception of my lifestyle – they assumed because I was a model that I possessed fame, success, and a glamorous lifestyle that they had grown to think was something of great value. They assumed that because I was called a “muse”, my particular look must be regarded as more beautiful than another, and therefore I must be worth more than someone of a different look or body type. But these are all such lies. In the same way, the woman who told me yesterday that she did not envy me, said so because of her perception of my lifestyle as a stay-at-home mother of 3 (soon to be 4). I am often subtly criticized by strangers and well meaning friends/family members for the choices I have made in my role as a homeschooling mom – especially when they know that I gave up my “career” in modeling in order to commit myself to my husband and my children, and to my Lord, Jesus Christ – who I feel was calling me out of that lifestyle and convicting me of several aspects of that job that were not glorifying (nor able to glorify) Him. This world is all about glorifying ourselves. When we live lives that seem to suggest that we are “not living up to our own personal potential” as far as careers, success, personal glory or happiness, etc., people will view us as a sort of failure – or at least, they will find us somewhat bewildering. That is because the things that God tells us are good are not seen that way to the world. In fact, the world’s ways are completely opposite – making those who follow God seem like the ones who are deluded. And indeed, I’ve experienced that too. We’re often viewed as radicals or lunatics – and even more unsettling, we are becoming increasingly viewed as evil. Therefore, the treasure we seek as Christians – to those who have not found it themselves, is not seen for what it is and cannot be viewed as good or valuable to them. Yet the things that the world chases are so absolutely meaningless. Not only that – they are deceptive, devoid of light – and lives lived apart from the light can only bring darkness, despair and death to us in the end. They promise sweetness, but only bring bitterness. They promise happiness, but in the end deliver woe. Isaiah 5:20 says "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter! Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes, and shrewd in their own sight!" 
Living for earthly gain is like chasing after the wind, only to end up tired and empty handed, or filling our stomachs with ash in an attempt to find fullness. But without the truth of Christ, we are all deluded. We look to idols of the world to find a satisfaction that will never come. 

Isaiah 44 speaks about the futile cycle of a person who has created an idol for himself, believing a lie that he should put his trust and invest his life in something man-made, rather than in the one who gave him life in the first place, and the only one who can ever give life to those who are spiritually dead, empty and hungry for something that will truly fill them. In verse 20 it describes his hopeless state, for he is so deluded by the darkness of this world that he can’t even see that the idol he clings to is nothing but a lie. Isaiah writes: He feeds on ashes; a deluded heart has led him astray, and he cannot deliver himself or say, “Is there not a lie in my right hand?” I remember the first time that God brought those haunting words to life in my heart when I read Jesus’ words in Mark 8:36… “For what does it profit a man, if he gains the whole world, but in doing so, forfeits his soul?” Yesterday, in my devotional time I went back to Matthew and read the parable Jesus told, illustrating the kingdom of Heaven. He said “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.” (Matthew 13:44-46) In other words, before finding the truth of Christ, we’re all like these merchants searching and hunting for something of true value that we can hang on to. Merchants are constantly buying, selling and trading – looking for the next great find in order to increase their wealth. But once we find the truth – which is the gospel of Christ – we recognize that it is of matchless value. It is different from anything we can find or attain in this world… no earthly treasures can compare. Once we find this one pearl (for we know that there is only ONE truth – ONE way… ONE promise that delivers life, and life abundant), we sell everything else for it. We get rid of all those other things we once treasured and prized and chased after – recognizing that the value we placed on them was false… they were worthless in comparison... we see the idol in our hand, and we recognize it for what it is. A lie. One we are more than willing to cast aside for the sake of this precious pearl.

It's been a long journey – one that I haven’t even begun to describe. I have many more things I want to share, and I will seek the Lord’s direction as to how to go about it, because I hope to use this blog for His purposes rather than my own. I was reluctant to begin a blog again after closing the last chapter of my life and the blog I was maintaining at that time, and beginning this new chapter of life in a new country, with a restored family, a baby on the way and so many other things on my mind. But my very wise and wonderful husband has been catching me bored at night after all is done, playing “words with friends” or some other pointless time-killer… and encouraged me to start again. I do have a sincere desire to serve as a mentor for women and girls, and I believe God put that in my heart while I was modeling. But now I am a foreigner in a new land, I’ve started from scratch, I have no real peer group, and I have left behind my career as a model and all that went along with that. I started my first blog after seeing a very real demand for truth and after being approached multiple times by young girls who were in awe of me for all the wrong reasons. Somehow, these days as the disheveled beached whale with the ketchup stain on my big protruding belly & the brood of little kids around me needing to go to the bathroom in Home Depot, I don’t get approached much by star-struck teenagers looking for an autograph. So when my husband suggested I start blogging again, I was at first very skeptical that I could have any positive impact on anyone, or that I’d have any readers at all. After all, since I chose to give up that “glamorous” lifestyle that women were so drawn to me for, I am a nobody as far as the world is concerned now. What would anyone be drawn to my blog for? Why would they be interested in my life, or anything I have to say? Well, after that incident with Ms Non-Envious yesterday which you would think would only reinforce my previous assumptions, I was instead reminded that God likes to use nobodies to show his glory – often more so than he does “somebodies”. And so, I will willingly and thankfully count myself a nobody in order to proclaim His greatness. And the impact I make, if there is an impact, will certainly not be mine, but God’s. I’ll start here, by sharing that this woman I am now is far more beautiful in the eyes of God and in my own eyes than I ever was as a fashion model or anything else. And that is because my old self was dead – a whitewashed tomb… a painted corpse. The spirit inside me is a pearl of matchless worth and of great beauty, and I have learned to count all those things I once had as loss. They have been turned to ash, along with the rest of my former life. And through God’s mercy, He has given me beauty in their place.