Thursday, April 8, 2010

...we are hunters, hunting for something that will make us okay...


I remember when I was little and my parents would tell me I was beautiful.

I remember laughing because I knew they had to say that. They’re my parents.

I remember having a conversation a few years back with a guy about girls and body image.

I remember him saying how stupid he thought it was that girls struggle with the way they view themselves.

I remember thinking his words were incredibly insensitive and completely true.

I remember a prayer that was prayed over the girls on the CIS team as we prepared to come overseas.

I remember it was a prayer of protection- that we wouldn’t fall into the false belief that is strongly felt here-that our worth comes from what the mirror or the scale says about us.

I remember coming to Russia and being amazed by all of the high heels, makeup, and tight clothing.

I remember thinking how ridiculous it is that a size four is borderline fat here.

I remember feeling sad that so many women here find their worth in how skinny they can be or how beautiful they can look.

You know what I don’t remember? When I first started believing those lies for myself.

God, I thought I could rise above these pressures without you. I thought I had a firm enough understanding of what truly matters in life. I thought I was confident in the fact that my worth comes from you. God, I was wrong.

Forgive me. Remind me. Help me.

Help us.

2 comments:

katie said...

You are BEAUTIFUL Elizabeth Miles and I LOVE you!

If you come to Australia all the sizes are double digits. All of them.

Laura said...

We didn't have to say you were beautiful just because we are your parents. We said it, because in your case, it is true. But more important than your outward beauty is the inner beauty that we also see. Let that be your focus. It's what is of lasting value...all the rest changes. This is the voice of experience!