Beauty is Fleeting

I wrote previously in my post “Somewhere Between Grief and Grace,” about my grief experience with each new finding or new stage of my journey. The shock of my diagnosis. Losing my breasts to mastectomy. The vulnerability my recovery brought… And now chemotherapy. It’s like the reality of all of it has hit me again with a power-packed left hook this week. Yesterday morning I got ready for work, put on one of my favorite suit jackets and felt courageous and empowered to face the day. I went to the kitchen to take my medicine and as I stood in the kitchen looking at the dozen+ bottles, deciding which meds I needed that morning to calm my headache and keep my side effects at bay, I just began crying. Without warning. Unprovoked. I found myself in disbelief that this is now my morning routine. Right back at square one of the grief cycle. Disbelief. Anger. And I cried. A lot.

I quickly got myself together, “dried it up,” as my dad would say, grabbed my purse and computer, then reached for my phone to find a text message from my son, Brooks, that said “screw cancer!” He attached a picture of himself with his head shaved. My beautiful boy had shaved his head to stand in solidarity with me as I face what’s ahead. Needless to say, I cried again. Last night after work, I received a text with a photo from my brother, Joe, that simply said “I love ya sis,” with his head and face completely shaved. I bawled. Then this morning I woke up to a text from my precious Romain saying “I love you, mom!” and a picture of him with no hair. Ugh. Now, I know this was a really big deal for my boys and their love and support means the world to me. You see, I began losing my hair a couple of days ago – not in big clumps or patches, but I started shedding in my hairbrush, on my pillow, towels, etc. I knew it was beginning. Talking with survivors, they all said to shave it before it gets to the point of losing it in clumps to make it less traumatic, so that’s what I am doing today. I’m having my head shaved. I am taking that big step in this experience that will make it pretty obvious to everyone I meet, what I’m going through.

I like to look nice, but I never really considered myself a vain person until now. This is hard. So many women have told me this step is more distressing than losing their breasts. I’ll find out first-hand soon. My chemo regimen has brought several internal chemical changes, fatigue, and in addition to losing hair, it takes a heavy toll on physical appearance. Changes in skin texture, tone and color, dry, brittle, discolored fingernails, weight gain, bloating, nose bleeds, acne, and mouth sores, to name just a few… None of it flattering, and much of it hitting sensitive areas of a woman’s identity and confidence. Talk about humbling. They say beauty is skin deep, right? I’m really gonna be putting that to the test here. The verse from Proverbs that says “Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised” just keeps coming to my mind. What’s beneath my skin is what matters. My worth is not wrapped up in my physical appearance. My worth comes from the One who created me. I am so deeply loved. In the world we live in today, it’s easy to forget these truths. We are conditioned to fit into society’s definition of beauty and so much judgment is made based upon the way someone appears. We decide if someone is worthy of our time, our friendship, our compassion and often make these judgments based on what we see with our very human eyes and preconceived, often ill-informed ideals. I know God is teaching me through this and I think this is one of the lessons I’m being humbly reminded of. He doesn’t care about my physical appearance, He cares about what is beneath my skin, beneath my sometimes hard outer shell. He cares about my heart. My substance. Who I am and how I think. How I live the life He has given me. I am His. I’m so thankful He doesn’t see us the way we see ourselves. He doesn’t judge and decide who is worthy of His love based on the way we look. We have to do nothing to earn His love. What a gift! He sees us as whole, perfect, beautiful, worthy, redeemed, forgiven, free. I will be reminding myself of all of this as I experience the physical changes ahead. May I always remember to look beyond the surface, to look at the whole person for who they are to Jesus. Help me, Lord, to see others and myself through your eyes.

“But the Lord said to Samuel, “Don’t judge by his appearance or height, for I have rejected him. The Lord doesn’t see things the way you see them. People judge by outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

“But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear; you are of more value than many sparrows” Luke 12:7