Let’s face it. No one feels attractive in sweat pants. You wear sweat pants when you want to be really comfy…..or when nothing else fits.
Since my second son was born two months ago, I’ve been wearing maternity pants, or pants with elastic waists…so… a lot of sweat pants. Every few weeks or so I try on some of my old pants only to be disappointed yet again. They are too tight.
I try not to be one who focuses on looks too much. I know that’s not what is important. But I have to admit that I’ve complained about my clothing situation quite a bit in the last month or so. It annoys my husband a lot.
This morning, I came out of the bedroom after I had gotten ready for church. He smiled and pointed out to our son in such a genuine voice how nice I looked. Instead of thanking him, I made some comment to the contrary. And then I heard his sigh of defeat….or maybe more than defeat. I threw his kind words back in his face. Why couldn’t I just accept his compliment?
I started thinking about myself through his eyes. The one who cares for his children and kisses him every day when he gets home from work. The one who gets excited about letters from sponsored children and abhors the death penalty. The one who keeps the house (mostly) clean. The one who has just a little bit of a jaunt in her step when she has time to straighten her hair and slap on a bit of blush. The one who loves him no matter what.
I thought about how my sons must see me. How I comfort Elias when he cries and smother him with kisses. I’m the one who reads him stories and sings him songs. We give eskimo kisses and pray together. I make him lunch and play puzzles with him. And Simon…I’m mostly all he knows besides Elias and Nathan.
I thought about how God must see me. His child. His creation.
When I look at myself through those eyes, I’m beautiful. It does not matter that I did not look in the mirror and see beauty this morning. When I walked out in my purple sweater this morning, though, that is what he saw. Maybe I need to learn to accept a compliment. Maybe I need to let go and realize that love can overcome anything. Even maternity clothes and stretch marks.