Shells

I’ve told my kids a hundred times, “Marry someone you will still love even if she gets burned all over her body,” meaning to seek a spouse you really like being around, not just looking at.  Sick of hearing that, my 17 year-old finally said, “Mom!  How many people do you know who got burnt up in a fire??”  I know.  No one.  But the sentiment still stands.  Our shells are just that—outward coverings for what’s really going on inside.  They are fabulous blessings, though we sometimes take them for granted, judge each other by how they look, disfigure them, and even ridicule and curse them.

We’re all totally guilty of misjudging each other based on first impressions.  In fact, we didn’t even want to look at the house we eventually bought because the outside was so ugly.  And yet almost immediately after going inside, it felt perfect, we felt at home.   Just  ironic that we almost didn’t even peek inside because of its shell.  That happens so often with people, doesn’t it?

Have you ever set your sights on an attractive opposite and assumed the rest of the package would certainly match?  And then been disappointed?  Feeling deceived?  That happens so often, that some of the best looking people (like entertainment icons) are the most egotistical, the biggest let-downs.  I wonder how it would be if we were to overlook looks a bit more.  Because you just can’t tell how kind a person is by the length of his nose or thickness of her hair.  I’ve met some of the most beautiful people who happen to be housed in absolutely stunning shells.  And others I’ve met are just as beautiful, and yet the world doesn’t give them the same credit because their shells are too short or too lumpy or their hair isn’t the right length or their skin is flawed.  It seems that almost everyone struggles with their shells, maybe  it’s vanity or humility if they happen to live in a handsome body or lacking confidence and dealing with insecurities because of what the magazines are promoting at the moment.

Even though shells are superficial, I still think there are a few things you can tell about a person when you look at her shell.  Mostly you can tell what a person thinks about him or herself—by the way they dress and carry themselves.  I’m not talking about fancy clothes or if someone has a limp because of an injury.  You know what I’m saying.   A hint of arrogance says the same thing as slouched shoulders to me: both are insecure and worried about what people think of them.  Some people wear clothing or hair styles that draw attention to the shell, while others dress and express themselves in a way that shows what’s in his heart matters more than how much his suit costs.  A person who is genuinely beautiful knows that she has nothing to prove.  Her beauty radiates on its own.

I remember a talk by a dad who had traveled to the leper colonies of India.  He showed us pictures of his friend there, whom he called one of the most beautiful women in the world.  She was scarred from the effects of leprosy.  The world would avoid her, yet he embraced her.  He could see how beautiful her heart and soul were.  I think partly because he is a beautiful person himself.

They’ve been called the windows to the soul.  Little peepholes to the heart.  You’ve had practice if you’ve been around kids at all because their eyes are especially sincere and it’s easy to see when they’re discouraged, so excited they can hardly keep it in, mischievous, trying to cover up a mistake, hardened, keeping a secret, feeling vulnerable or scared, all sorts of things.  Even if a person’s shell is a little distorted or she’s trying to mask her identity, her eyes are a give-away.  Even a withered great-grandpa who can’t stand all the way up can have twinkly, sparkly eyes.  Todd’s mom has some of the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.  They shine.  The saddest eyes to me are the ones who have no light in them, kind of blank; sometimes they live in glamorous shells that the world worships.

A person whose shell no longer works so well is still worthwhile—in spite of everything, so valuable.  Our bodies can be used as amazing tools to communicate what’s inside.  Even someone who is so injured that he can only blink an eye or look in the direction of a letter to make a string of letters to form a word is still useful, needed, and loved.  Because what’s inside can still radiate joy and peace to those around him.  We’ve probably all been with someone who is so sick or weak they can’t really respond or interact.  Babies and old people are the perfect examples.  Who they are inside is so significant and precious that we just long to be next to them, to hold their soft hands and to bring them close to us.  We’re drawn to truly beautiful people because we feel accepted and loved.

I know, there are books for this kind of thing.   Seminars too.  I guess I just wanted to explain to my kids what I mean when I tell them to learn to see beyond the shell.  The real person is inside.  Learning to love people for who they are will bring them so much more joy than focusing on a shell than can get old and wrinkly, saggy and gray, wounded and disfigured.  We all have unlimited potential for beauty.  We just need to look past the shell and into each others’ eyes and learn to recognize where beauty really stems from.