Laying in the dimness of night. Street lights are casting in through the window, creating sepia.
Husband traces my neck, brushes my hair away, revealing skin. He glides his hand down my shoulder, the curve of my side to find hip, then pulls me in. Near.
"No one can tell me beauty is anything else", he whispers in my ear.
He believes this wholeheartedly. I don't doubt it.
But there is something in my own heart that I can't quite put my finger on.
It keeps me from believing, seeing it that way for myself.
My beauty through his eyes.
How precious are his thoughts, if I'd only accept them.
It's a natural default for me, to disregard my beauty.
An area where I still wage war.
I think one of the greatest gifts we could give to our husbands is to believe them, when they tell us we're beautiful. When they tell us we're stunning. Gorgeous. Captivating. Alluring. Exquisite.
When they affirm us, lets not shrug it off. Lets believe.
His breath is warm, "Sometimes I look at you and don't even know the words to say... you are too beautiful for words. Nothing could compare".
I believe he's telling me the truth according to him.
It's just not truth according to me.
I breathe deep. Pause. Peal back the unbelief.
"Thank you", is all that comes to my lips.
I'm learning that true intimacy comes when we reveal the vulnerable parts of who we are to the ones we love. When they see the ugly and still find us lovely.
I turn over.
Midnight moon peeking in through the curtains.
Casting soft dim light across his face.
His eyes say it all, they always have.... I am his beloved.
It's in those moments I cry out a silent & simple prayer that can cover so much...
"LORD, help me overcome my unbelief!"
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, that I am well aware.
Desired. Cherished. Held dear.
It's my own heart that needs to be overhauled and revamped to see my elegance. Fairness.
To understand and receive that I've been designed and fashioned to be loved deeply, known intimately, and seen with eyes that behold my beauty.