i'm telling you, the tree is dry. really dry.
but, apparently, so is my skin.
this weekend, on the hunt for stocking stuffers, i walked blindly into an ulta store and found myself immediately assaulted by a well meaning beauty guru and her well-stocked jars of cream. before i knew what was happening, she had my face slathered with her products while commenting and cooing about how my skin desperately needed nourishment. moisture! specifically, her expensive creams. apparently i was looking extra old and way too wrinkly and she seized the opportunity like any good cosmetic counter sales girl should.
needless (or needles) to say, she got my attention: clearly, i am not doing enough.
i came home with my package of much-needed creams only to find more needles puddling below the droopy boughs of my poor tree and felt a new, fast connection with my withering evergreen.
o christmas tree, o christmas tree how lovely were your branches.
it’s no fun to feel dried up and droopy.
i was really hoping my tree might make it to the new year. as for me, i’d like to think i also have a few more new years ahead, but based on the beauty consultant’s comments, i am now seriously concerned.
by the way, i do fully realize i could go the fake route -- both with my tree and my skin. and i don't judge that choice one bit, might even at some point be tempted. but for the time being, i've been holding on pretty tight to the whole nature and natural thing. but i'll never say never.
christmas trees and aging complexions, let’s be honest, they are in a constant state of decline. there’s really no getting around it. no matter what we pour into them or smear all over them, they eventually deteriorate. it’s just what happens. it’s the way it goes. no one expects our trees to last forever … or ourselves. dust to dust, and all that ugly jazz.
that verse in isaiah 40 which says “the grass withers and the flowers fall …” well, thanks to my unfortunate encounter in ulta, that verse has been running through my head all weekend. i even invented my own version: “the needles drop and the skin sags …” perfect, right? sounds crazy, i know.
and i very well could get crazy and derailed this christmas thinking about that kind of stuff. i mean i came home all stressed out about my skin and my desperate need for, well, apparently everything. but later that day staring at my needle-dropping tree, it hit me—the thing i really need to keep well-watered is not my tree or my skin, it's my soul. that should be first and foremost. but, if i’m honest, it isn’t always my main concern. i can easily find myself fixated on temporal things like trees and treatments and quickly forget all about my own spiritual nourishment.
i don’t know why that is so easy for us to do. but, gosh, is it ever.
after writing this piece, i do vow to completely refrain from thinking one more minute about dropped needles or droopy skin. instead, when i gaze at my tree and or even into the mirror, i want to use that image, not as a sign of how quickly things are going south, but as a reminder to drink deeply from the living water which only Jesus provides.
that isaiah 40:8 verse continues … “the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.”
that, alone, needs to be my focus in this christmas season and in every season.
his birth brings life. and because of his coming, we have the most beautiful chance for eternal living. no tree preserving potion or skin treatment protocol can compete with the living water of our living God.
“and the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” isaiah 58:11
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| before she started aging |
1 comment:
You’re beautiful just as you are ❤️
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