I don't often repost things from other sites but today I just had to share this Poem written by a fellow staff woman and reposted once already over at Kindling Blog by my friend Judy . The words have stuck in my brain and I keep thinking about it.....Here it is:
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.t8P2pMMF.dpuf
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.t8P2pMMF.dpuf
Grandmama,” she says,
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Grandmama,” she says,
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Grandmama,” she says,
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then? I think, “then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
by Beth English
So here I sit, in my chair by the fireplace - Do I truly believe that I am more beautiful now than I ever was? How about you? Maybe it isn't hard if you have never thought of yourself as beautiful...definitely something to think about. Thank you so much Beth for making me stop and think...Am I beautiful? or I am beautiful!
Grandmama,” she says,
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Grandmama,” she says,
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Grandmama,” she says,
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Unearthing a photo of me when I was sixteen,
Her blue eyes sparkling,
Blonde hair floating about her shoulders,
Sunkist cheeks flushing pink,
“You used to be beautiful then!”
“Then?” I think, “Then?”
But say instead, “you think so?”
“I know so!” she says
In that definitive little way of hers
As if she has the world figured out–
Daring it to deviate from her determined point of view.
“Then?” I think, but do not say,
“ Then I was beautiful?”
What do you know of beauty?”
Me at sixteen,
An unlined, unblemished face
In an artificially arranged
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.uYqU0zeG.dpuf
Studio with soft lighting?
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.t8P2pMMF.dpuf
I tell you, my girl,
I am more beautiful now than I ever was,
With my soul worn down, smooth and resilient,
Like the soft blue jeans you always wear,
Like supple leather pounded with rubber mallets
From worries I could not stop
And storms I couldn’t control
Soothed only with the peace
Of God’s presence
And friendship
And empathy.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
If I were a rose I would be a Queen Elizabeth
Full of scent and elegance.
If I were a tree I would be a towering redwood
With roots that go deep.
If I were a voice,
I would be a whispered caress.
If I were a stone,
I’d be the solid foundation of a home.
I am more beautiful now than I ever was.
I am enduring, I am weathered,
Rounded as river stones from a swift current,
Hammered, hammered flat as silver
By my mistakes and
Erroneous judgments,
Tempered by tragedy,
Softened by storm,
Kneaded by need
To the Potter’s pliable clay.
If I thought you’d listen,
I’d tell you the way to become beautiful
Would be to let the storms rage,
To fix your hope on the lighthouse,
Shining in the worst of weather,
And to let life’s arrows pass through
Your quivering body
Knowing He will heal you,
Even when you think it is impossible.
Yet
Though you would hear
You would not listen,
For these are the lessons
You must teach yourself.
Have you ever smelled a scarlet rose the very day
Before the petals fall?
Eaten a peach at its ripest,
Juice dripping down your chin?
Tasted a wine
Mellowed to perfection?
This is the fullness of time, my dear.
I am there
And I am beautiful.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2013/09/when-i-was-beautiful-guest-post-by-beth-english/#sthash.t8P2pMMF.dpuf
6 comments:
Love this poem! And when in the fullness of time, we are perfect, just as the Lord wants us to be, we go HOME!!
What a thought provoking poem! A beauty brought about like a diamond . . . but hard to appreciate until you see the end result. Maybe that is why we don't want to go back to when we were sixteen. It is too much work to really become beautiful. =)
Loved this... and so true.. if they only had the time to listen to us tell the story.. but they have to learn it themselves! Thx for reposting.
You are more beautiful!
Thanks so much for stopping by Adeline!
You are beautiful!! I am doing my internship right now working at a seniors facility and I find so much beauty talking with them as they share the depth of their experiences and their long, rich deep walk with the Lord Im always so blessed to hear stories and I know you also have so many stories ( Not that I am calling you old Doris!!) Thanks for sharing I really liked the poem!
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