Distortions

I was in the attic the other night searching in vain for the box of white Christmas tree lights. I never did find them, much to my frustration. In that frustrating process two great things happened.
1. I discovered that the netted lights purchased for shrubs that no longer exist in my front yard can be draped nicely around a Christmas tree. In fact, I like it so much, I'm stickin' with that method.
2. I discovered pictures I'd tucked away in a box of college memorabilia.

The pictures I found were of the Miss Humble Pageant 1984. I am a member of a lost generation.  I willingly admit I am one of those little girls who thought being Miss America would be the pinnacle of living. I took Bert Parks to heart. Carol and I watched every September on a Saturday night, pink sponge rollers in our hair. There wasn't a set of curved stairs or a stage that I didn't practice holding my presentation bouquet of roses and waving the other hand to an adoring crowd. In my best moments, I'd hold my crown in place with the free hand and with exaggerated lips tell my fans and the judges, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Some people knew sports facts. I knew pageant facts. Although I had heard rumors about what was necessary to win titles, I, in my naïveté, entered my one and only local pageant. I was Miss Deerbrook Mall: "Lori Hudgins, a 19 year old sophomore at Baylor University studying social work."

Like all good pageant contestants, I starved myself silly through Christmas holidays, no less, to be as skinny as possible. I ran miles a day and hated every minute of the running. I can remember thinking that I wanted to be 10 pounds lighter and an inch taller. If I won. I'd lose the weight before the state pageant. The inch in height? Higher heels would create the illusion.

When we got together for the first rehearsal, I knew I wasn't going to win. It looked obvious to me who was being groomed for the crown. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my pageant experience. Even with such a different world view now, I have no regrets. I'm glad I made a leap at a dream. Pretty sure, even then, that when I answered the fill in the blank question, "A woman's place is...." "--in the home", that answer sealed the deal against me. I believed it with all my heart. At least I was true to my limited views, I guess. A better answer was on the back of my tongue, "Changing." And how relieved I am that the more thorough answer is true. Because now I'm glad we get to make a choice.

The pictures brought back memories of the event, my answers, Robby choreographing my movements while singing "Someone to Watch Over Me" in my living room, and odd images of taped up boobs, glue on the backs of swimsuits, and vaseline on teeth. Much more, though, I was struck with what my body looked like in that red one piece swimsuit. How could I ever have thought I should lose another ten pounds? I had no idea what I looked like. It would have never occurred to me that I had a beautiful body. After all, Kim had bigger boobs, Ann's legs were longer and leaner, and I'd never have that long neck like Beth.

The photos were aging so I decided to scan them onto my computer. Once scanned, the photos made me lose what looked like about another inch in height and a gain of probably 10 pounds. I may have recovered from a terrible eating disorder, but I'm not crazy. No point in cataloging an image that was inaccurate. That's when my best thoughts started churning.

Maybe I do hang on to a little piece of crazy since I didn't want to archive an inaccurate image. And yet, haven't I held on to a life long inaccuracy of what I looked like? Who saw me accurately? It would probably be true that my ex-boyfriend and the one I had my eye on at that time could have chimed in easily that I looked pretty good. Maybe my parents, my roommates could see what I couldn't. I believe that GOD could see me with absolute accuracy. Even more, HE saw the insecurity, the judgmental spirit, the wounds within that I worked so feverishly to hide from everyone around me.


HE knew what the 46 year old Lori would look like and be like. HE knew I'd make choices that would require a pant size large enough that my whole freakin' 19 year old body would fit into one leg. HE knew the deep furrow that would settle between my eyebrows during my 40's, my divorce wrinkle. HE also knew I'd work diligently alongside Him to heal wounds, become more loving, less judgmental and insecure.

Here's the utterly astonishing truth, HE loved 19 year old Lori perfectly, exactly as she was. He loves 46 year old Lori perfectly, exactly as I am. And most comforting to me is that HE will love 73 year old Lori perfectly, exactly as she will be too. I can distort what I look like and who I am, both in the positive and the negative. God, however, sees truth at all times and loves anyway. HE went to a great deal of trouble to make sure that I get to share life with Him. How grateful I am this Christmas for all HE did to make a way for "this little lamb, who's lost in the wood." HE is someone who, with perfection, has watched over me.

Can I admit two things? 

1. Even after my admission of a grain of crazy thinking, I almost didn't post these pictures.
2. When linking up the clip, I cried when I heard Bert Parks sing . (And practiced my wave--wrist, wrist, elbow, elbow.)