My little sister texted me the other day and told me that she has never seen me more beautiful. My mom tells me this all the time. My cousin Shaaron repeatedly tells me that I am, in fact, beautiful. Lots of my girlfriends do.
Last night, my friend Carmen told me that I looked beautiful. My heart responded as if she had told me that my pen was cool, or she liked my new shoes. The comment was appreciated, but empty. I started thinking about why I want to be beautiful, and why it doesn’t seem to be enough when women see beauty in me.
What is the point of beauty? If we see a photograph of a city and think, “That is beautiful” what we are really desiring is to be there, to walk the streets, to eat the local fare, to feel the unique energy of that place. We want to experience it fully. Beauty gives birth desire – the desire to experience the object and all that makes it beautiful.
Beautiful. Every woman wants to be beautiful. Let me be more clear. Every woman wants a MAN to think she is beautiful. When a father tells his daughter that she is beautiful, the words will do something to her soul that is unmatched by any other words that another human being can speak over her. He is preparing her to receive those words from someone who will speak them laced with desire.
Is there benefit to beauty without desire? Should the words my sister spoke caress my heart with the same tenderness as those left longed for? Is it enough to know that the King is enthralled with my beauty?