Pain Is Beauty Part 3: A Beautiful Death

        There is a story of a man who loved a multitude. He fed the hungry, gave comfort to the brokenhearted, spoke life in dead places, played with children, and cared for the sick. He was every man's friend, a gentle soul who gave and expected nothing in return. People sought him out, desperate just to be near him, just to experience the peace that exuded from his being. He was capable of making each person feel special, significant, wanted. He was the ultimate humanitarian. 

          This man, so full of love for people, so desperate to see others' lives overflowing with abundance, died at the hands of those he served. A whisper started a whirlwind fueled by ignorance, guilt, and jealousy. The multitude to whom he had given his heart - his whole life - were suddenly calling for his death, seeking him out, blood-lust pumping through their thirsty veins. In the cover of night, they hunted him down, captured him, and tortured him. They punctured holes in his side, ripped the flesh from his back, stabbed thorns into his scalp, and beat him senseless. His blood spilled to the ground; his muscle tissue dangled in pieces from his bones. In a final act of cruelty, the mob of people who witnessed firsthand the goodness in this man's heart ended his life: death by crucifixion. 

          Death by crucifixion: the most beautiful death this world has ever known. Oh, the sight itself was ugly: a body mutilated, ravaged, destroyed; anguish seeping from torn flesh; agony etched in facial features. That moment in time speaks of pain most men never endure. The man who loved the multitude hung on his cross, looked upon those that nailed him to it, and released his last breath. When peace invaded his body and his eyes closed that final time, there on his lips lingered not the taste of bitterness but the sweet, sweet flavor of forgiveness, forgiveness marinated in love. 

          His name is Christ. His pain is the most beautiful thing in all the world.

          With His pain comes our redemption. With His pain comes our freedom. With His pain comes our healing. With His pain comes our salvation.

          The phrase "pain is beauty" truly does define my entire life. Yes, my heart has been broken. The past has clouded my present. My insecurities have led me to attempt to maintain impossible standards. My pain, like yours, has been very real. But it is not my pain that makes my life beautiful. It is His.

          I am part of the multitude. He has given His life over to me. He has loved me. He has cared for me. He has clothed me and fed me. He has healed my sickness. He has given me everything He has - His very life - forever suspended in one of the most brutal moments in history. And while His death was hideous, I am the ugly one. I have spit in His face, pushed thorns into his skull, and driven nails through his hands. It was my anger-filled, insecurity-ridden heart that prowled in the darkness, looking to trap Him and tear him limb from limb. I am the one who demanded the death of the Son of Man, the One who devoted His whole life to me. And this Man gave me everything I asked of Him. He gave me His all. 

          I caused His pain, yet when He whispers into the ear of His Father, He doesn't speak words of hate or words of revenge. He doesn't map out retaliation. When He whispers into the ear of His Father, on His lips is the sound of forgiveness, the song of redemption. I am His Beloved. Despite my turning on Him, He takes care of me. He heals my blemishes. He erases my invalidity. Through all of His pain, He has turned His heart toward me and loved me back to beauty. 

Part 1: Beauty Is a Woman Named...

Beauty is a woman named

Renita Bolton.

     Two years ago this March, I began dating the son of one of the most beautiful women in the world; I just didn't know it at the time. Over the next several months, Renita would become to me a second mother, a dear friend, and a kindred spirit - someone I could count on to tell me the truth, share in my pain, and help me find beauty when I couldn't see any. I hope I did the same for her.

     Less than a month ago, this woman who grew so dear to my heart in such a short time left this world to sit at the feet of our Heavenly Father. As I stood in the receiving line at the funeral home beside her husband Tommy and her son Kyle who became my husband last June, I was blown away at the outpouring of love we received from those who knew Renita. With each passing handshake, hug, and kind word, it became evidently clear to me that I wasn't the only one who was dazzled by Renita's beauty. Today I want to try to put into words just what it is about this woman that captured so many. I think I can explain in two simple truths.

1. Her love for God and her faith in Him drove her life.

     I have never in all my life met a woman more optimistic than my mother-in-law. Some may point out that's not saying a whole lot for me because it seems that the females in my family (including myself) tend to be eternal pessimists, but I fully know that regardless of the scale on which I have to measure, Renita is the brightest light. The entire time I knew her, her life was what most would deem a struggle. Shortly after I met her, she was forced to quit working due to her health. This alone broke her heart, but the difficulty it brought to her home would've been enough to crush anyone's spirit. Oh yes, she had hard days. I sat across from her at the kitchen table on several occasions sharing tears over the past and sorrows about the present, but for Renita, there was always a light at the end of the tunnel. It didn't matter how long she cried, when it was over, she would set her eye on the hope of the future.

     She found this hope in one place alone: her relationship with Jesus Christ. It still amazes me the faith this woman had. She countered every harsh reality with a promise from God. To be honest, right after she passed away, I felt so angry with God because I kept calling to mind all those promises she stood on, and I just didn't feel that those promises had been fulfilled. I couldn't have been further from the truth. Regardless of what we here on Earth desired, Renita had her ultimate hope for the future fulfilled: meeting her Savior face to face. It was His life in her that made her truly beautiful. 

    2. Meeting her just once could change your life forever. 

     I've always heard those little inspirational quotes about crossing paths and being forever changed or how one person had the potential to offset another's chosen direction with simply a smile. While these words were always beautiful thoughts, I never found them to be beautiful truths until I met my mother-in-law. I promise you the woman didn't go anywhere that she didn't impact someone's life. She always wore a smile, and laughter was constantly dancing on her lips. Her words were full of encouragement and zeal, and while sometimes they carried a bite (especially to those who knew her well,) she made a point to speak truth and life.

     Renita was a nurse by trade, but her capacity to care for others went far beyond any learned bedside manner; it was truly a gift from God. When you looked into her eyes, you felt sincerity. When she hugged you, her embrace spoke of overwhelming love. She was a mother to more than just her son, a sister to more than just her brother. She was a woman who knew no stranger and who looked for the good in everything and everyone. She was capable of pulling beauty out of the ugliest situations and if truth be told, out of the ugliest people. Her whole life reflected the beauty of the world around her.

     Beauty is a woman named Renita. Yes, she had warm, honey eyes, thick hair that could hold a curl, and a smile that lit up the entire world, but these outward traits were only a fraction of her beauty. Her beauty was found in her Heavenly Father's love for her, the love that she shared with everyone she met. Her beauty was in the way she made those around her feel: special, important, victorious. Her beauty was the hope she kept hidden in her heart, the hope she fostered against all odds and poured out to those who were hurting as well. 

     It is my hope to do for others what she did for me. I want to take the love and the kindness and the truth that she gave to me, that God gave to me through her, and pour it out on others. I want to be the kind of person who is full of life and love and laughter. I want to be the kind of person who seeks out all of God's beauty in all of God's creations and opens others' eyes and hearts to all the good there is to be found. In some of my darkest moments of doubt, shame, hurt, and fear, Renita helped me find light. She taught me how to see beauty in myself that I had never noticed before. I want to be one who can do that for others. After all, what good is beauty buried beneath dirt or hidden by the dust of the past? Truly beauty is meant to be shared and enjoyed. I am eternally thankful Renita's was shared with me.

The Marilyn Make-Up Part 3

       


          Marilyn Monroe - Norma Jean - a talent, a beauty, a tragedy. True to form, her soiled personal life led to an unattractive death. There are varying reports about exactly what happened to Monroe (some of them following a conspiracy - the Kennedys playing a hand in her death,) but one fact remains: an overdose ended her life. She was born into a world void of love, protection, and stability and left it just the same: alone and tormented.

         Despite how ugly her life was, when the world looks upon the face of Marilyn, the only thing reflected there is beauty. Why is it that we can disregard all the scandal and hail her, still, America's sweetheart? What is so appealing about this bottle-blonde that keeps us mesmerized fifty-one years later?

          I call it the Marilyn Make-Up, and it is as simple as this one word: TRUTH.

          Marilyn's appeal isn't that she was blonde, busty, leggy, or full-lipped. There are a multitude of women who fall into that same category. Her appeal is in the knowledge we have of her, proving to us that she was real. She was a real human being with real hurt, real emotions, and real mistakes. Behind those fluttering lashes, we see someone, a girl, to whom we can relate. We know her life was not perfect; she was not perfect, and her pain was excruciatingly true. We see Marilyn Monroe for who she was: a person, just like us, trying to find a way to cover up her scars.

The Marilyn Make-Up Part 2

          Norma Jean. Pretty. Curvier than average. Brown hair. Broken home. Nothing remarkable. She grew up in foster care, never knowing her father, while her mother roared through the 20's as a risque flapper, occasionally stopping in to see her. She lived a life of confusion, shuffling homes, those influencing her giving her conflicting ideas about morals and standards. She once attempted to live with her mother again, only to witness the woman's nervous breakdown resulting in institutionalization and Norma Jean's return to the foster system. In this second phase of foster care, Norma Jean's experience was even worse, as she was sexually abused on more than one occasion as her body propelled her into womanhood. Finally, to escape an orphanage, she married in 1942 at age 16. 

          In 1945, Norma became Marilyn. After being discovered by an army photographer, she signed with a booking agency, bleached her hair, and changed her name. Her breakthrough came in modeling, but she had her mind set on the silver screen. She worked constantly to improve her acting skills and deeply desired to be taken seriously as an actress. When working on a film, she would request take after take, not because she was a diva but because she wanted to give her audience her very best. She yearned for the people's approval. She lived to please.

          Despite her career successes, Marilyn's personal life was a running tragedy. She was married and divorced several times (different biographers report different numbers,) and she was involved in high-profile affairs, one allegedly with JFK. She and her husband Arthur Miller tried multiple time to have a child, each attempt resulting in miscarriage, and her dependency on drugs to deal with anxiety and to sleep grew greater with each passing day. To look at her, one would think she had the world: beauty, fame, riches, the love of millions. Underneath, though, the only thing visible was pain, hurt, emptiness, scandal. 

          What could possibly be so beautiful about that?

          

The Marilyn Make-Up

          There is no denying that Marilyn Monroe was beautiful. Even now, she is considered by many to be the epitome of attraction. Men and women alike clamor over her photographs, wanting her, wanting to be like her. Every year, there are new calendars published, each month bearing a picture of the blonde bombshell. Souvenirs, collectibles, cups, dolls, costumes: you name it, her face has donned it. Her look is legendary, and so is her life. Since her death in 1962, no other woman has come close to achieving the status Marilyn's name is synonymous with in our society. So what is it about Miss Monroe that has America, still, after all these years, enamored with her? Why can't we let go of Marilyn?