A Wrinkle In Time

I just realized how old I am. I'm 36. I have aged more in the last three years than I ever even thought possible.  It sort of feels like the way my mind responded when I was pregnant.  One day I discovered I was pregnant and thought to myself, "Wow.  I look pretty good. I'm not going to be one of those women whose dresses begin to look like a tent full of balloons."  Then, one morning I woke up to find that indeed, I was that woman.  Four times that happened, and four times I was completely blindsided by the realization.

This morning, I was at home with my younger daughter, and we were playing with my iPhone camera.  Since this particular device also has the option of turning 180 degrees, so that a person can take a picture of herself while holding the camera I thought it would be fun to upload a new Facebook profile picture.  Shock and awe are the two words I would use to describe my reaction when I saw the photograph I took.  Fine lines and puffiness around my eyes and deep lines across my forehead.  When did this happen?  My only guess is that while I was being blindsided by the tolls four pregnancies were taking on my body, the stress of raising the fruits of that labor was taking its toll on my face.

I consistently use sunscreen and anti-aging creams on my face.  All of my life I've prided myself on my young-looking skin.  People used to be amazed when I told them how old I was, often commenting on how young I looked.  Now, when I tell people my age, no one bats an eye.  People say things like, "You look tired"  when they actually mean, "You look old."  I want to grow old gracefully, knowing that "the Lord does not look at the things man looks at.  Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7).  I know this is true, and yet I find myself pulling my face taut and imagining that gravity doesn't impose the cumulative property of time I know all too well.

Apparently, for the last three years I have methodically gone through both a morning and an evening routine without ever really looking at myself.  Standing too far from the bathroom mirror and dim lighting have done much to feed my ego...until today.  My prayer is that even now as my youth is fading and the lines and signs of wisdom and experience make their presence known, I will feel that my values and the strength of my character far outweigh the shallowness of my exterior.  Believe me, I want to look young, but you couldn't pay me enough money to go back in time.  Not for a second, do I regret the circumstances that have shaped the story of my life.  Because we all have a desire to be known, I guess that also means that if I try to cover up, alter, or otherwise change the landscape of my countenance, I am hiding something that altogether belongs to me, that has made me the person I am today.

Coco Chanel famously said, "Nature gives you the face you have at 20. Life shapes the face you have at 30. But at 50, you get the face you deserve." I still have some years to go before I'm 50, and so I keep on going, knowing that the choices I make as well as the reactions I have to the choices that are made for me will make their impression, not just on my soul but also on my face.  Doing this is a difficult thing, which is why I'm writing about it.  To embrace these advancing years is a deliberate act of the will.  And so, maybe on my next birthday, I'll add ten years to my real age just so I can hear someone say one more time, "Really?  You've got to be kidding because you sure don't look it!"