|T'was tucked in a corner in morning newspaper: Chinese woman to spend six months under surgeon's scalpel, to change herself into a beauty! |
Aha! Wouldn't quite a few of us like do the same?
We are already at it. Hours at beauty saloon, or in front of mirror, a dash of mascara, wonder creams that hide tell tale wrinkles, fairness lotions, enticing lipstick, bewitching eyeliners!
And of course suction machines that suck stubborn stomach away, filling ones that fill busts to queen size proportions!
He came home to visit, this cousin of a close friend of mine, many years ago. If there was a specimen of a man, I could call handsome, this was it. We spent the whole evening chatting, nay he spent the whole evening talking, I listened and as the evening wore on, I yawned, but with courtesy to friend, whose cousin it was, I kept tired eyes open, near snoring nostrils shut.
All he spoke off was himself, his achievements, accomplishments, aspirations, his qualities, his courage, his greatness, his genius. I listened, and suddenly it struck me, I was in middle of a sales pitch. The man was selling himself. There was a plea in his endless rhetoric. "Listen," he was saying, "I'm good, aren't I?"
The young man finally left and wearily I went to phone and rang friend whose cousin it was. I heard a chuckle on the other side. "Plastic surgery!" he said. "He's had plastic surgery. Was one of the ugliest chaps before the surgeon's knife turned him into sexy hunk, but he still thinks like he looked before."
What surgeon's scalpel couldn't touch and shape and mould was the still ugly man inside his handsome looks. What he still felt of himself was not shapely nose, seductive lip or Tarzan jaw, but obnoxious, foul, pathetic creature!
Thousands of years ago, the prophet Samuel went in search of the next king of Israel. He was guided by God to the family of Jesse, who had four sons. The sons were paraded before Samuel, one by one.
The prophet looked at the eldest, and then the next and the next and wondered each time that surely this was the one whom God had chosen, since they were all tall and good looking. But God chose the youngest who was in the fields, a shepherd boy, saying, "Don't judge a man by his face or height. I don't make decisions the way you do. Men judge by outward appearance, but I look at his heart."
To God, good looks, good height, mean nothing. He looks deeper and knows true beauty lies beyond looks and mascara, that lovely face and chiselled jaw still hide weak, wishy washy, frail spineless person.
God looks into the heart of man.
That is where His scalpel needs to reach. With a deft cut here and a push and a jab, with closing of wound and a healing of hurt, with cutting of habit and hacking relationships, tuning the heart and cleaning your soul, He will sculpt our ugliness into beauty divine.
"Hey handsome..! Hello beautiful..! You've been treated by the Surgeon's scalpel..!
News Updated at : Monday, September 10, 2018