What Spotty Apples Say About Your Inner Beauty

What Spotty Apples Say About Your Inner Beauty

I spread heaps of spotted apples on my countertop – fresh fruit bounty from the weekend in Ohio at my parents’ farm.

We’ve already made fresh-pressed cider from these flawed specimens. We’ve chucked marred apple after apple into the hopper and let the girls crank the aged metal handle, grinding the perfect inner flesh into a heap of small chunks. We’ve turned the ax handle at the top, pressing the apple mash tighter and tighter, releasing a flow of pure, fresh cider into the chipped enamelware basin below. We’ve scooped the froth and licked apple-cider mustaches clean.

Today, I’m peeling and coring, slicing. I’m fanning thin wedges on plastic-mesh circles to dehydrate. {This winter’s oatmeal will be laden with cinnamon sprinkles and dried apples, studded with almond morsels.} I’m chopping into chunks and simmering low in a stainless steel pot, the sweetness of these apples cooking down into perfect applesauce – no sugar needed.

And, later this week, I’ll make good on an August promise for made-from-scratch pie {though it’s gone from a peach to an apple one, as the season changed}.

We’ve turned out months of dried apples, gallons of cider, two pies, and a large pot of applesauce from a bucket of apples most people would trash.

And, I think: How often we feel like spotty apples, judged for our far-from-perfect appearances over our insides.

spotty apples 2

Take me.  I have a long thin face. My nose is prominent {a photographer once told me abruptly to turn when he realized how unflattering my profile is}. I have lots of freckles, even in the winter. And, lately, two or three have merged to make a mega-freckle on my left cheekbone that seems to be impervious to cover cream. My smile shows way too much gum no matter what I do, and one of my two front teeth juts out because I stopped wearing my retainer once I got married. {I mean, really, are you supposed to wear those FOREVER?}

But, the beautiful. We know them. Always put together. Tall and slender. Wearing skinny jeans in bright colors with cute ballet flats and statement necklaces. Tossing back long, flowing hair. {In the blogging world, this stereotype of beauty is even more prominent, because flattering photo shoots and styling can paint a misleading portrait of perfection.}

And, you and me?

Well, we wear sweats and cover our unwashed hair with ball caps more often than we’d like to admit.  Or, maybe the numbers on the scale are higher than we’d like. Perhaps, we can’t muster the gusto to accessorize appropriately or apply makeup because we have toddlers clinging to our legs {or teen drama clinging to our hearts}.

I live in an affluent, put-together community, where the majority of moms arrive to the bus stop generally coiffed. {I’m typically clutching a coffee like it’s my lifeline and a sleeper-clad three-year-old, while hoping the fact that I’ve washed my face redeems its lack of makeup.}

But, oh, we spotty apples.  There’s one thing I know about us. When we are able to let our skin-deep blemishes go, when we invest that energy in higher things, our harvest will not disappoint.<<<– Tweet this<<<

Our Lord cares only for interior beauty. And, friend, our insides are good, sweet, worthy.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

Proverbs 31:30


This post was gladly shared with Jennifer Dukes Lee: 

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  1. I love this. LOVE it…such truth. And I’m with you on the clutching coffee like it’s my lifeline…that’s what I’d be doing at the bus stop, too…in my yoga pants, hoodie, and slippers. 😉 Shine on, my beautiful friend. You inspire me! 🙂

  2. I love this post! (Although, I haven’t thought of myself as a spotty apple before! LOL)

    You picked the perfect scripture to illustrate your point.
    Jerralea recently posted..He Sees MeMy Profile

    • I just love that scripture, don’t you? What a freeing promise of God that we don’t have to look perfect, that He knows our hearts. {Or, alternatively, it’s challenge to place our spiritual life over our vanity.}

  3. Thank you for giving us ‘baseball’ hat ladies grace! I am a spotted apple sweet with my Father’s love!

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