I indulged in a facial last week. Pure delight.
I was struck by how gently and tenderly my aesthetician treated my face.
Such light touches,
Such gentle strokes.
It almost brought me to tears. Weird, right?
Think about it, though - our faces do such majestic work all day, every day.
They are how we face the world, how we see, smell, hear, express emotion.
We use our faces to talk and to smile,
To frown and to cry,
To kiss and to speak with our eyes,
To smell amazing food and to eat it with joy.
I rarely give my face the attention it deserves, except to notice its flaws, new wrinkles, sun spots, things that need to be improved.
Faces, though, even with all their perceived flaws, are holy.
I love how the Old Testament scriptures use the imagery of God turning his face toward us as a sign of God's love, favor and blessing. The priestly blessing in the book of Numbers is one of my favorites:
“The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.”
I am going to treat my face - the only face I will ever have - more gently, more tenderly, more reverently from here on out. God's face shines on my face. God's face shines on yours, too.
If I know you well, you may find me asking if I can touch your face next time we are together. Something so intimate and gentle, so pleasing about holding a beloved face in one's hands and saying, without a word, You are cherished.
Who knew a facial would cause me to realize afresh that faces are holy, holy, holy.
My aging face is holy.
What a journey she's been on.
What good work she has done and continues to do. What delight she has brought me.
Well done, good face. Well done.