Beautiful feet

Feeling beautiful has never been an easy task for me.  I never felt gaggle-toothed-monstrous, hide-in-the-belfries ugly but I never had the inner confidence that would have helped pull of my 5 foot 10 inch pre-teen frame. I can't even admit the inner dialog I practiced when I would go around a room and find the girl with prettier feet, the one with prettier hair, the girl with the prettier waistline, the one with a prettier smile on and on and on.

Then I went to BYU.  Where in the heck are these girls manufactured?  I am convinced there are factories that spew out blonde,  blue-eyed, 5 foot 2 bombshells peppering the Utah-Idaho border.  Not to mention the bronzed beauties coming from the Pacific Islands or the long haired knock outs with a Hispanic background.  My inner comparison went into high drive.

This lack of confidence got an eighteen month respite as I served a full-time mission.  Missionaries didn't have to be beautiful, they just needed to work hard.  So I rolled up my sleeves, worked hard and stopped the silly worry. 

One night while kneeling in prayer on the floor in a small apartment on my mission, I discussed with the Lord the blessings needed for the families we were teaching.  Out of nowhere He turned my mind to a passage I had just read in the Book of Mormon.  The passage was explaining how the early prophets testified of Christ.  It reads, "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those that are still publishing peace."  I was overcome with personal, however trivial, inspiration. The personal logic was lightening fast and flawless.  I gathered the facts.  "I have feet". "I had published peace".  "BYU is the mountains" thus I WOULD HAVE BEAUTIFUL FEET ON THE MOUNTAINS.  I would be beautiful there.  I didn't think I needed this truth right then but my Father slipped this little nugget into my basket to use later.  My attempts to fulfill my calling would result in the confidence to feel beautiful. I had beautiful feet.

I returned home, finished my time at BYU, went on to post-graduate work, started my career in a new city and got swept off my feet by my sweetheart.  Yes, he thought I was beautiful but my own confidence came from knowing I had lived my life worthy of the blessing of him.  Just like on my mission, my beauty came from knowing I had pleased the Lord with my "publishing peace" and righteous living.  I had beautiful feet.

Time passed as we built our world together.  And with time came a physical change that 40 brings.  I still had his hand as we attempted to live our lives in accordance to God's will.  I had confidence even if my eyebrows weren't where they used to be and laugh lines creased my eyes.  I had beautiful feet.

But the biggest change to my beauty came post-diagnosis.  Cancer is at its worst when the sun goes down.  And the caregiver gets slapped by its cruel timing as hard as the patient.  I slept at his feet for 7 weeks to be at the ready for anything he would need.  And he needed.  My waking hours were full of worry and stress and concern and heartbreak.  None of these were good companions to a beauty routine. 

Yet with all this, something magic happened.  While rushing from bathroom to kitchen to serve the man I loved, I would catch a reflection of myself in the mirror and I was amazed at my beauty.  The face of a woman fiercely devoted to her children looked back at me.  A wife madly in love with her husband was obvious from her eyes.  Her mouth fixed strong showed someone who was determined to make it through the challenges rocking her world.  An inner grace and peace accompanied her every move.

Then I lost him.  And again the magic continued.  As I followed behind his casket holding the hands of his gorgeous boys, I was stunning.  As I laid him to rest in the sweltering heat of a Phoenician summer, I glowed.  As I mourn him and learn to live with only a fraction of my heart, I radiate.

How could this be?  Simple.  It is the same doctrine I was taught long ago in that moment of personal prayer on my mission.  "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those that are still publishing peace."  My publication task might have changed from preaching the gospel to Texans to raising righteous boys without my eternal companion as a physical presence.  My task is now to pick up the pieces of my life to shelter my children.  My task is to rely wholly on the Lord when my own strength is deplete from grief.  My task is to testify to all that know me that Leonard continues to live through Jesus Christ's ultimate sacrifice.  And in accomplishing these tasks, I will qualify for beauty.  I have an inner glow.  I have beautiful feet.