Don’t Insult My Taste

originally published 11/10/11

  • My thighs are too big…
  • My tummy’s not taut enough…
  • My eyes can look freakishly big…
  • There’s a bump on the bridge of my nose that mars my profile…
  • My waist and hips are disproportionate…
  • My breasts benefit from a good bra in a way they didn’t used to need…
  • My hair needs help to be bright and grey-free…
  • I can see fine lines starting to creep across my forehead…
  • My shoulders are slope-y….
  • My legs?  Too long for my body.

 

 

Somehow, I got it into my head that I should point these things out to my husband.  I had this weird idea that, if he knew I really WAS aware of my flaws, perhaps he’d be less critical of them.  Of course, he really wasn’t worried about them in the first place, but I still felt the need to share all my self-deprecating thoughts.

 

Until the day I watched his eyes warm appreciatively as they swept down my frame clad in a short night gown for bed.

 

“I know,” I lamented, “it cuts me off right at the fat thigh…”

 

And the light in his eyes dimmed considerably.  His gaze met mine steadily and he said only one sentence, rather softly:

 

“Don’t insult my taste.”

 

Holy mackerel, was that a powerful statement.  How did I not realize that, in diminishing my own worth and beauty, I was deeply insulting the man I love?  How was I so foolish that, rather than bask in the warmth of his adoration, I sought ways to point out why I was undeserving?  It is hardly respectful to the man I love to continually insult the woman he cherishes.

 

And, to take it even further, what does this self-deprecating speech mean in terms of my respect for God, my Creator?  If it is hurtful to my husband, who chose me to join him in the unity of marriage, how must it be to He in whose image I am fearfully and wonderfully made?   In my heart, I hear Him whisper…

 

“Don’t insult My work.”

 

So hush, critical eye.  Go away now.  I have more important things to work on…

 

like my relationships with God and my husband.

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