With nimble, practiced fingers she raced to capture the living parable before her eyes in the fleeting moments of sunset — a clutch of white desert lilies she happened upon while walking to the Algerian slum she called home. Lilias Trotter was no longer a starry-eyed missionary who was struggling to learn the Arabic language. Over these 20 years the desert had become home. She had grown accustomed to what had, at one time, appeared strange and foreign alongside her wealthy London upbringing.
Only 1% of women think they are beautiful, according to a survey by Dove.
That reality is a little strange, since beauty has never been easier to come by than it is today. The plastic surgery business is booming. Beauty products are boundless. We are surrounded by a plethora of social media advice that provides us with all the secrets and techniques we need in order to look, act, and feel like confident, beautiful women. We have all the tools we need. And many of us spend a large portion of our time trying to make ourselves attractive.
When I was growing up, my mom was considered by most standards to be a health nut. My friends’ lunch boxes contained white bread sandwiches, greasy potato chips, and Little Debbie cupcakes, while mine was filled with whole wheat bread, carrot sticks, and sugar-free granola bars. In our house, eating “sugar cereal” like Fruit Loops or Captain Crunch for breakfast was akin to cheating on our homework assignments. Kids who ate that kind of “garbage,” we were told, ended up in detention and remedial reading classes, not to mention frequent and painful trips to the dentist’s office to have their many cavities filled.
My husband knows my history-loving self all too well. When my 35th birthday overlapped a business trip I had accompanied him on, he arranged (unbeknownst to me) for us to dine aboard the Queen Mary — one of the largest and most luxurious ocean liners of yesteryear that carried British royalty, historical figures, Hollywood stars, billboard crooners … and the likes of me.
This past year has been the hardest season of my life. Circumstances beyond my control have caused me to feel, as Paul said, “…burdened beyond measure, above strength…” (2 Cor. 1:8). And through it all, the word that keeps coming into my heart and mind is “overcoming.”
The string of verses formed a golden chain of truth in the young woman’s mind that she went over link by link, verse by verse, in her memory. She sat motionless, face tipped towards the sun, deep in thought. Though God’s Word resounded in her soul, her lips didn’t form silent words and she didn’t dare breathe the words of the banned Book out loud.