How Should We View Ourselves?

Well, my recent post defending Hillary Clinton raised some eyebrows, but I definitely believe that we should try to be less obsessed – and critical – of the way we look.  That’s easier said than done, of course, with so many commercials trying to get us to buy the very latest beauty product and so many magazines airbrushing out the very imperfections that make us human.

Julie Smith Lowe (a counselor at CCEF) writes about this in an article called, “How Should We View Ourselves:”

God’s Word teaches us how to have an accurate view of self. Think about 2 Corinthians 4:7, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” This passage identifies us as “jars of clay” with a treasure of great value inside of us. As inconspicuous clay pots we “show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”

Easier said than done?  Yes.  But read the whole thing and give yourself a little extra room to be normal today.

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  • Thomas Hubbard

    EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK, thats one scary lookin lady!

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  • Sue Lynn

    Great post Bristol….One thing for sure is true love comes from God….Haters really hate well and expose what is in their heart!! You choose I choose we choose Love over hate!

    • CJ

      AMEN, Sue Lynn :)

  • Mark Lopez aka Maze

    Good passage and good message!
    I always think to myself that the least attractive person in heaven is far more beautiful than the most beautiful person on Earth. God must laugh at those that think themselves more beautiful than others.

  • blackbird

    Bristol, there is not enough mud in this world that can hide how beautiful you are.

    I was just saying over at http://palin4america.com/2012/06/wisconsin-weekend/ how I Love Conservative Women, there is something about a conservative Woman that I cannot put my finger on their beauty radiates from inside out.

    Audrey Hepburn:
    The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. True beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It’s the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows & the beauty of a woman only grows with passing years.

    • CJ

      blackbird, I love your response! Wouldn’t it be nice if Hollywood, the “rag mag” barracudas and the rest of the media would drop the “Barbie Doll”
      obsession and stop the insanity? It’s bad enough that our HS girls can’t wait for their Senior Prom to bare as much skin as they can get away with and brag about their pricey “designer” accessories! Seems it’s all about emulating THE RED CARPET…….even if it’s only for one night.

      • blackbird

        Thanks CJ, and I agree.

        1 Samuel 16:7
        But the Lord said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.

  • Bruce O’H.

    I agree with blackbird.

  • Tony Malliris

    I see it it differently, because I do not judge by looks. nor by handicap. Not my way. But each and every person out there see beauty differently….example; some may say Denise Richards is very hot, but others may not think so. It is all about the person and their prospective about beauty. If I was to judge I would say Bristol Palin is a very beautiful woman…..and Denise Richards is not

  • blackbird

    I posted this before but it seems fitting for the topic, for all who might apply.

    The Old Fisherman

    Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out-patients at the clinic.

    One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. “Why, he’s hardly taller than my eight-year-old,” I thought, as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw, yet his voice was pleasant as he said,

    “Good evening. I’ve come to see if you’ve a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there’s no bus ’til morning.”

    He told me he’d been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. “I guess it’s my face… I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments…”

    For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: “I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning.”

    I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us.

    “No, thank you. I have plenty.” And he held up a brown paper bag.

    When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn’t take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.

    He didn’t tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.

    At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children’s room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, “Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won’t put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair.” He paused a moment and then added, “Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don’t seem to mind.”

    I told him he was welcome to come again. And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they’d be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4 a. m. and I wondered what time he had to get up to do this for us.

    In the years he came to stay overnight with us, there was never a time he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed.

    Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. “Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!”

    Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice, but oh, if only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be grateful to have known him, from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

    Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, as she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, “If this were my plant, I’d put it in the loveliest container I had!”

    My friend changed my mind. “I ran short of pots,” she explained, “and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting out in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden.”

    She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. “He won’t mind starting in this small body.”

    This happened long ago — and now, in God’s garden, how tall lovely soul must stand. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.”
    (Samuel 16:7b)

  • David Dempsey

    Good one, Bristol. I hope Tripp pulled his tongue back in before making contact. ha


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