I am the girl with a million photos of herself. Why? Your face has the ability to capture a complete essence. A moment in time where your heart aches, cries, screams, hopes, and even bleeds. Our emotions pour through our luminescent eyes and beam through our smiles. Our face, our demeanor, our essence, has the ability to change lives. There is great power in beauty, or is there only power in confidence? Beauty is not limited to the flesh, beauty without heart, is dead. My creamy porcelain skin has been tainted by guilt, my golden locks have been dimmed with regret, and my lips have been dried by unresolved appologies. But, reguardless of what the past has handed me, is not what I have in my spirit, chosen to become. Beauty is wreckless in a sense that it holds such little regard for what others call it. It is relentless, it is contagious, and it fights. Beauty is brutal. This face of mine is all I know, it was the only one that God has given to me and He calls it by name. If I am precious in His eyes, then shouldn't my eyes appear precious? If I am a daughter of a King, shouldn't I shine? And if I am blessed beyond measure with the love of a man, who has become my Savior, shouldn't I hold my head high? If you were to look upon my heart as you do my flesh, your eyes would not be so pleased, I am sad to say. How strange is that our skin, our hair, even our muscles regenerate more quickly than a wounded spirit. We can paint our lips, tone our locks, and tighten our flesh, but to cover the spirit, to cover the heart, appears to be a leathal and useless task. No matter what we try to cover, surfaces. This is why one must first strive for a pure heart and a gentle spirit, when wanting to the world to take notice in their "beauty". Sure a picture is worth a thousand words, but what is it saying? Some may be pleased with having a beautiful cover, but my spine, my binding, my context, is where my heart lies, it is merely expressed through this, shell. Just because my eyes are green does not mean they are filled with envy, oh no, they are emeralds from the Kings crown. My lips have not been stained berry from shed blood of hurtful words, oh no, they strive to speak the blood of Jesus. My hair is not golden because it desires to be rich, oh no, I am simply basking in the light of the Lord. Beauty is intriguing, but what is behind such a photo, such a mind, such a heart, is the true mystery to be discovered. Few have truly heard my hearts desires. My photos, oh they speak, but do you understand?
