To Beautify the Beautiful
According to my mom, I was a girl with a dream. From early childhood, I loved to read books. Perhaps because of this, I encountered the word “soul” when I was around seven or eight years old. Without anyone explaining it, I knew what it was. It wasn’t just something precious—it was the most precious thing to me. I felt a responsibility to care for it and keep it pure. That became my goal. From that moment on, my life was oriented toward making my soul beautiful, pure, and holy. The reason I read, listened to music, and appreciated nature… the reason behind all of these things was for this “soul.”
My family didn’t practice any religion, and I didn’t even have a concept of “God.” However, as I grew up, I began to look at life more seriously and faced existential questions like: “What is the meaning of my existence?” and “What is the meaning of life?” Then, the man who had lived in my imagination ever since junior high appeared in real life, and we fell in love. I thought it was the “love of the century.” But the day after we held hands for the first time—also the last—I was struck by an unexpected tragedy. For me, my soul and the boy couldn’t exist together. I found myself at a desperate crossroads and had to choose. With many tears and a deep wound in my heart, I chose my soul.
Sometime later, still mourning, I heard a thunderous voice cry out to me: “You are not a child anymore. Offer yourself to me completely—even every single cell of you!” I didn’t know who was speaking, because there was no one there. Yet that sentence seized my entire being, and I couldn’t escape it. To whom, or to what, should I offer myself entirely? Even every single cell? And so began my search.
In this way, God came to me before I ever searched for Him. After a long and intense journey, I met the God who “created me for love and even died for me.” I was baptized and soon fell into His immeasurable love. What I once thought was my “love of the century” now seemed like a mere prologue to this divine love. In response, I sought a way to return my love to Him completely—a hundred percent. That’s when I learned about “religious life.” I knocked, and the door was opened. Thus began my journey into monastic life.
Were there no more boyfriends after the first one? Oh yes—many! I often fell in love with Socrates, Plato, Plotinus, Augustine, Evagrius, and others such as Michelangelo, Beethoven, and Gogh…. But the most captivating of them all has been, without question, Jesus. More and more, I’m drawn to His “beauty.” When He says, “I am the good shepherd,” the Greek word for “good” (καλός) also means “beautiful.” When He prays, “Father, glorify Your Son,” I discovered some Hebrew translations for “glorify” use the word פָאַר (“pa’ar”), which also means “to beautify.” So instead of “glorify,” I sometimes read: “Father, beautify Your Son.”
And in that spirit, I pray with this beautiful Jesus:
“Father, make this daughter of Yours beautiful, so that I may beautify You.”