"I'm a fraud as a woman—I never mastered beauty, homemaking, or femininity like I should have."
How it sounds in your head: Other women seemed to glide through womanhood knowing instinctively how to dress, decorate, nurture, host. I've been pretending for nine decades, hoping no one notices I never learned the secret formula. My house was never magazine-worthy, my figure never quite right, my hair always a battle.
"Do not let your adornment be merely outward—arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel—rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God."
-- 1 Peter 3:3-4Source: world - Culture has been selling women an impossible standard since Eve, making you measure your worth by Pinterest boards that didn't exist when you were raising babies.
You've spent ninety years comparing your behind-the-scenes to everyone else's highlight reel, and the enemy has compiled a lifetime of 'not quite enough' moments into a case for fraud.
Leah had 'weak eyes'—she wasn't the pretty sister, wasn't the chosen wife, spent her wedding night as part of a bait-and-switch scheme. Yet God saw her, opened her womb, and put her in the Messianic line—JESUS came through the 'ugly' sister, not the beautiful one.
I REFUSE the lie that womanhood is a performance I failed. IT IS WRITTEN that the incorruptible beauty of a gentle spirit is very precious in God's sight, and THAT is what I cultivated across ninety years of living. The world's beauty fades; mine increases as I approach eternity. IT IS WRITTEN that charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised. I didn't fail femininity—I succeeded at the eternal version while the temporary version obsessed over what doesn't matter. I am blessed in the city and in the field, in my imperfect kitchen and my aging body, because the BARAK blessing isn't based on performance but on covenant. I am the Father's beloved daughter, and He has never once measured my worth by my waistline or my wallpaper.
The Father is looking at you NOW—90 years of wrinkles, scars, and stories—and He sees the most beautiful version of you yet, because you're almost HOME where outer and inner beauty finally match. He's running toward you calling you lovely, precious, His crown of glory.