Unconditional love and Kylie’s perfect pout

I looked in the mirror today. I saw my laughter lines etched a little deeper, and my hair becoming increasingly grey at the roots. Ageing; not much fun is it? I was heartened by an Evening Post report into an upcoming WI calendar asking men to ‘bare their bits’ in an attempt to get more of them to sign up to the group. As one wise WI leader remarked: ‘we are often perceived as older, but we have not passed our ‘best before’ date yet’. 

In a society that appears to value youth above experience, and superficial beauty more than internal wisdom, it is tough to believe that God’s values are different. We, it seems, will do all we can to avoid considering our own mortality. Sadly, ‘eternal life’, does not accurately translate as ‘eternal youth’, although if you’re seventy and set on starting your own hip-hop band, why should anyone persuade you out of it? 

The Reading Chronicle reports on rumours that popstrel Kylie Minogue has had cosmetic ‘help’ to preserve her amazing looks, ‘she appears to have a much fuller top lip than before, giving her that perfect pout’. Cosmetic surgery used to be an oddity, now, if you believe the celebrity press, it is a common occurrence. At the heart of the Christian faith, for me, is the profound belief that God accepts us for who we are, whatever our age, lip size or bra cup. But how many of us, really, deep down believe that? How easy it is to be seduced into thinking that the perfect job, man, woman, hairstyle or six-pack stomach will validate our existence. When I pray, I want to feel God’s love for me. When I engage with other Christians, I want to experience some kind of unconditional regard. Knowing, intellectually, that God designed us and is pleased with his work and not disappointed with the flaws, is no good. I want an emotional and spiritual encounter that confirms it. This takes, on occasions, a giant leap of faith. Increasingly I am slowly getting what I ask for, but only after a great deal of surrendering and soul searching combined.

This giant leap became literal recently for one reluctant parachute jumper.  The Bucks Free press reported, in October, how 47 year-old Peter Robinson from Marlow plummeted from a light aircraft in the second leg of a triathlon challenge. His breathless comment; ‘it’s all about conquering fears and this is just another one’. He’s spot on, of course. Fear, particularly of being abandoned by the creator, for me, is the crux of it all. For today at least, I have faith that God will keep my parachute open, and that I don’t ­ a la Bridget Jones in her new film ­ land, metaphorically at least, in a pile of excrement.

Clare Catford presents BBC Radio Berkshire’s Sunday morning programme