The Beholder

I'm average. I don't view this as a negative, just truth. I'm not a great beauty. Not a show stopper. Strangers don't make a fuss or look embarrassed when I enter a room. In fact, entering a room is usually a non-event. And that's ok. I've come a long way to now understand and accept that I have my strengths. There are parts of me that are pretty. But overall - I'm average.
Ryan would disagree. He thinks I'm beautiful, sometimes even says that I'm gorgeous. Who, me? The first time he ever said it, I thought he was being mean. But he wasn't. He really thinks that I'm pretty - all the time. Really, all the time. And lately I've been so focused on him, that I've started to believe him. I've started to think that maybe I am pretty. Maybe I am sexy. Maybe I am "kind of a big deal". I haven't spent too much time, lately, looking for my imperfections in the mirror. Instead I've just been looking into the face of one who loves me, and listening to his voice tell that I'm beautiful and loved. And I'm convinced.
Tonight I was looking at some pictures of Ryan and I that were taken last night. Last night when Ryan thought I looked beautiful - and last night when I believed him. But tonight, looking at the pictures, I see that I'm average. I see my flaws. I see all the little things about my face that I don't like. The things about my body I wish I would change. And I wonder.
Maybe this is a small piece to the puzzle with God. Maybe to understand who I am and whose I am, I should listen to the One who loves me. The One who made my face and thinks it's beautiful. Maybe the more I look at Him and listen to Him - the more I will believe what He says to me. Maybe the longer I gaze at His face, the less time I'll have to gaze at my own.