For starters, I was told by the lady at the desk that I was on the wrong side of the building. I’d gone in the plastic surgery door by mistake but was wondering if that might actually be the best door for me, after all. Maybe I was past the help of a power washing and a belt sander and needed something more invasive. This drooping neck thing could really use some attention. And I’m to the point where I have to practically smile just to get my frown lines to straighten my mouth into a horizontal line so, even when I think I’m smiling, I just look mad. Anyway, my gift cards were not for plastic surgery, so the nice lady escorted me to the skin care side of the building, where I was welcomed with a friendly greeting and a clipboard full of paperwork. 

With relaxing music in the background, I filled out sheet after sheet. I wrote and wrote and wrote. The forms made me swear I hadn’t used retinol in 7 days because bad things could occur during the treatment. I started to doubt myself and wonder what would happen if I’d actually forgotten and used retinol one day. From the serious sound of it, my face might just combust into flames in the middle of the treatment or my skin could slide right off my face. They asked for an emergency contact number- I assumed in case my face did explode, they’d need to let Davis know. I finally convinced myself that I definitely hadn’t used retinol in a week and I signed the forms promising as much. 

The young girl came to get me. My esthetician, I believe they call them. This is all new lingo to me as I’ve never been a spa type of girl. Remember, I grew up between brothers and I’m pretty low maintenance in the beauty routine department. I mean, I think I do ok and clean up all right, but hair appointments and sporadic manicures are as far as my beauty rituals go. Anyway, the first thing she did was ask me verbally about the retinol. My goodness- that retinol combined whatever they were about to do to me must be worse than mixing fire and gasoline or pills and booze- but I, again, confirmed I hadn’t used it in a week. 

The sweet girl took me back and asked if I had any concerns. Sure, I had some but they’d  probably need to be addressed on the other side of the building, so a simple no was given. Why bother the young, twenty-something girl whose face was still unscathed by Father Time. She asked me to describe my daily skin routine starting with morning and then night. “Oh, I was afraid of this,” I thought. “Her head will explode when I tell her my low-grade skin care regimen.” I went through what I do in the morning and night and may or may not have been a bit elaborate in my description of the imported Equate brand exfoliating facial wipes and anti-aging cream selected from among the finest brands that the drug store offers plus whatever comes in my Clinique free gift, a couple of times a year- you know, without trying to sound too bragadocious. Since she was a professional, I looked for any sign of judgement, but there was none. She was likely just thinking- well, bless her heart. 

She told me to stretch out on the table and put a wedge under my knees. I was very comfortable. She explained that the planing would remove all of the old skin and facial hair I might have. I thought to myself how she was about to have the limits of dermaplaning tested. One thing I can pride myself in is the ablilty to grow some facial hair and menopause has only strengthened this God-given gift. She planed and planed and planed. Nobody has ever planed longer or harder. I doubt Noah planed more while working on the ark. It was oddly relaxing to have my face scraped down to its original surface. I asked her if I had a lot of stuff coming off and that’s when she used the words, a little fuzzy. She was being kind as I know other words like lower primate would’ve probably been her first choice. She finally got done and asked if I’d like to see what she’d removed. Well, I wasn’t leaving there without seeing that! She pulled the paper around so I could get a look and there it was in a clump in the middle. A ball of fur that looked like a small animal curled up on a winter day. Not as large as a mongoose or skunk but more like a mole or gerbil. I reached up to feel my face and it was as smooth as glass. I was sure it hadn’t been that smooth since the day I emerged from my mother’s womb. 

She finished off with the hydrofacial and it was so nice. She showed me the collection jar from that, but it wasn’t nearly as impressive as the collection of gerbil hair from the planing. I thanked her for the very relaxing experience and for her kindness and I added I’d likely tack this onto my simple list of beauty routines since I enjoyed it so much. 

As women, we do have a lot of pressures to stay young looking. Marketing from every direction tells us to fight it with everything we have. We’re the worst about comparing ourselves to each other and basing our confidence and self-worth on the results of those internal matchups. We’ll always be able to find women who are more _________ (fill in the blank with whatever you’re insecure about with your appearance.)None of us wants to show our age. But, hello. Aging is natural, inevitable, and, as they say, a blessing that many are denied. 

“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” Proverbs 31:30 When I think of some of the most beautiful women I know, all kinds of faces come to my mind. Old and young and in between- very little of my perception of them has to do with their looks. The things a woman may see in herself- crow’s feet, a new sprinkling of gray hair, or a couple of pounds added since last year- they don’t keep her from being regarded as beautiful by others. The beauty is in the way she makes other people feel. How she carries herself and walks into a room. The way she handles difficult situations. The words she chooses. How she conducts herself. The way she loves people who need it most. How she dispenses grace. How she reflects God’s joy and light. Those are things that make a woman beautiful and those things don’t ever fade, shrivel, wrinkle, or droop. 

So, let me get off of here and go smear on my drug store night cream and squeeze out the rest of the eyelid serum from the sample tube, but may I always give the most time and attention to making my heart beautiful. Let’s be beautiful women today! 

JONI