On Facelifts, Fillers, and Faith

The article I hadn’t asked for appeared on my social feed: Kris Jenner's New Look Goes Viral. Of course, my curiosity triumphed over my intuition, which was warning me of the impending rabbit trail. After skimming the article, I descended into the abyss of celebrity gossip. First, I scoured the internet for before-and-after photos, which took no time. Then came the questions everyone’s been asking: “What’s a deep plane facelift?” “How much does a deep plane facelift cost?” “What other celebrities have gotten a deep plane facelift?”

While not surprising, the answers prompted even more questions. Because behind every viral cosmetic procedure lies a bigger story about what we’re willing to change (and spend) to feel young, attractive, and worthy.

For those unfamiliar, the deep plane facelift is currently the most effective and dramatic facelift procedure. It tightens the skin, softens wrinkles, enhances jawline definition, and creates a more youthful, refined appearance. All it takes is twenty thousand dollars and a reputable surgeon to turn back the clock 30 years. 

I concluded my facelift probing on Instagram, looking for videos of these procedures. And they were about as eyebrow-raising (pun intended) as you could imagine. The plastic surgeon begins by tugging on their patient’s face, pulling the skin back toward the ears, pinching wrinkles away, drawing lines, and tightening the excess fat and skin around the neck area. This is followed by clips of post-op bruising and bandages, only to reveal an entirely different face at the end. This was the case for each consecutive video I watched.

Their skin was glossier, their eyebrows were higher, their jawbones were sharper, wrinkles were erased, their cheekbones were now prominent, the neck was smoothed, and their lips curved upward, forming an involuntary soft smile.

All the laughs they’d laughed, smiles they’d smiled, eyebrows they’d raised, sun they’d enjoyed, and food they’d eaten, which had, day by day and cell by cell, formed their faces into the person they were before surgery, were all concealed in one procedure.

It makes me sad. Not because they’ve gone through with an irreversible surgery erasing the subtleties and imperfections that made them unique, but because we, as a society, have so over-emphasized external appearances in our quest for self-love and worth, that we’ve created an extremely narrow category for what constitutes as beautiful. And now, everytime we look in the mirror, myself included, we unwittingly submit our faces and bodies up to the scrutiny of this chosen vision.

It’s been a few days since I discovered this article, and it’s continued to take up space in my mind, as have the many other procedures and treatments trending today: Botox, fillers, injectables, Ozempic—the list goes on. 

The technology has finally caught up with the times. Women want to look unaged, porcelain, vibrant, thin, and, well, however desired. And they can, if they can afford it. It’s mainstream now. Normal. Botox is the new balayage. Filler is the new French tip. Ozempic, as a beauty tool for fast-tracked weight loss, is gaining popularity as swiftly as any other fad diet before it. But how are these treatments, at their core, any different from the blonde streaks of the ’90s or the waist training in the Victorian era? 

Looking broadly at the shifting beauty standards of the last millennium, we see a complex dance between evolving cultural ideals, socio-economic forces, and a human tendency to continually reshape ourselves to fit society’s ever-changing aesthetic mold. 

However, now more than ever, on account of American hyper-consumerism and digital media, our access to cosmetics, creams, tools, tips, treatments, and procedures is in excess—our desire to look youthful and effortlessly flawless is met with a yes and an amen as soon as we enter a Sephora, walk into a beauty bar downtown, or swipe through an influencer's recommended links.

And why wouldn’t we? What’s holding us back? Who’s to say where the line should be drawn? How do facelifts, Botox, and fillers differ from hair dying, waist training, or manicures? 

By repeatedly removing this topic from the shelf for contemplation, I've determined that these questions all prompt deeper conversations about identity, worth, meaning, and affection. 

I could whitewash the argument and say things like “you do you” or “stay in your lane,” but in doing so, I’d be teetering on soul neglect. It’s not that facelifts (or other cosmetic treatments) are some sort of barrier to faith. It’s that there’s not too great a disconnect between how our understanding of Scripture (or lack thereof) shapes what we see in the mirror, and, consequently, how much time we spend in front of it, and how much money we spend in light of it.

It should go without saying that my goal is never to shame, condemn, or ostracize anyone for their choices. For the most part, beauty is a matter of personal conviction. It’s nuanced, shaped by circumstances, and unique to each person’s story. I love mascara and concealer as much as the next overtired mom, teacher, doctor, or corporate professional.

This essay isn’t about pointing fingers at you, the individual; it’s about rejecting and resisting society’s constantly shifting, often unattainable beauty ideals and reclaiming our true confidence in Christ.

The good news is, God’s love for us doesn’t hinge on our getting everything right. If it did, my pride and untamed tongue would have condemned me long ago. Whether you struggle with being content in your own body, think too highly of your body, or look down on others who fall into either category, there is grace for us all.

The real issue isn’t merely how the mirror affects your beauty decisions, but how knowing God as your Maker shapes how often you look in the mirror and how you think about the person in its reflection. With this truth in mind, I have a few more questions for you to consider: what does God say about who you are, what you’re worth, and what really makes you beautiful? I want to flesh out a few truths from Scripture that will, if fully digested, completely reshape how you see God, yourself, and the beauty narratives driving our culture today. 

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them (Genesis 1:27). You are a reflection of the Imago Dei—the image of the invisible God, Jesus Christ. We were made to reflect him, to carry his attributes. God is love, so we long for love. He is peace, so our souls desperately seek peace. He is creative, so we delight in creating. He is glorious and beautiful, and that’s why beauty resonates deeply within our hearts. On the surface, our desire to be beautiful might seem superficial, and often it is. But look closer, and you’ll find a heart yearning for what it was designed for: the beauty, perfection, and glory of God, and the promise of the glorification of our bodies in eternity. 

If you were created to bear the Imago Dei, and if beauty is, in part, something you were made for, then what does that mean for practical choices? Should you get Botox? How much filler is too much? What about plastic surgery in general? Or makeup, haircare, skincare, facials, and all the rest?

Here’s the thing: my decision to let my gray hair grow out doesn’t mean someone else’s choice to cover theirs is any less holy. Each of us has to draw the line somewhere, which requires wisdom, discernment, counsel, and prayer. What you shouldn’t do is constantly look for ways to change, correct, and cover up what God made and called very good. Honor God by honoring your body. Take care of it, but don’t tear down the temple in which he dwells. 

If you’re unsure what that requires of you regarding your current routines in regimens, to borrow the advice we’ve all heard from that one mentor in our lives: pray about it. 

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them (Psalm 139:13-16). Not only are we made in the image of God, but the same God who created us in his likeness also made each of us completely unique. God formed both you and me exactly as we are. He shaped my face according to his perfect design—my plump cheeks, button nose, wide hips, and wiry eyebrows—to reflect him and his glory. And he’s done the same for you. The choice we have is whether to believe it. We were intricately woven by the same God who created the sunsets and stars. And, because of Jesus, you are also forgiven, beloved, chosen, redeemed, God’s masterpiece, a citizen of heaven, and a daughter of the King. The moment we become apathetic about who we are in Christ, is the moment we begin shape-shifting to fit society's mold.

That said, going bare-faced into Target or showing up on social media without trying to hide my melasma and acne scars is both a personal rebellion against today’s impossible beauty standards and a celebration of God’s unique handiwork in me. Because, to put it frankly, this is my face. This is how I look. If we don’t learn to practice contentment with how God carefully created us, we’ll always be chasing a cultural caricature of ourselves.

Finding your identity and worth in Christ is the original path to true body confidence, because it places our assurance not in self, something fickle, but in Christ, someone firm. 

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised (Proverbs 31:30). Vanity is sneaky, often creeping in quietly when we’re not paying attention. It’s the fine line between wanting to look beautiful and wanting all eyes on you. The messages we absorb from social media and celebrity culture are often laced with half-truths, where misguided self-love can easily slip into subtle narcissism. It’s conceit disguised as body-confidence, tying our happiness to what we see in the mirror. Layer on the anti-aging movement, where some will cross the cosmetic sea just to find the fountain of youth. But to what end? We’re placing excessive stock in something that will eventually go six feet under, while oftentimes disproportionately disregarding our spiritual lives. The Wife of Noble Character is a woman whose beauty is found not in her appearance or appeal, but in a life devoted to God. 

Timothy Keller put it best: “The essence of gospel humility is not thinking more of myself or thinking less of myself; it is thinking of myself less.” The more we gaze at Jesus and practice putting others before ourselves, the less time we’ll have to worry about how we look in the mirror. 

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also (Matthew 6:21). While most of us will never actually undergo a twenty-thousand-dollar deep plane facelift, we likely store copious amounts of beauty products in our showers and sinks. 

Paraben free shampoo, leave-in conditioners, clarifying cleansers, vitamin C serums, retinol cream, lip scrubs and masks, exfoliating toners, hyaluronic acid drops, jade rollers, under-eye patches, sheet masks, brow gels and pencils, mascara primers, eyeshadow palettes, liquid and pencil liners, contour sticks, bronzers, blushes, highlighters, setting sprays, tinted moisturizers, lipsticks in every finish, lip liners, nail polishes and oils, dry shampoo, texturizing sprays, heat protectants, hair masks, lash extensions, lash lifts, Botox, fillers, chemical peels, laser treatments, microneedling, body scrubs, body butters, cellulite creams, self-tanners, waxing, threading, facials for every skin concern, personalized skincare regimens, etc. etc.

A list like this puts things into perspective: how much are we willing to spend to look beautiful? And what standard of beauty are we going off of? Nowadays, looking pretty or even just presentable isn’t cheap, and the endless stream of influencer recommendations makes it nearly impossible to stick to a modest budget. But scripture is clear: We don’t throw our money at what we say we love; we love what we throw our money at. It may be cosmetics, clothes, or even cars, but regardless of what you buy, your transactions will always reveal your affections. 

Growing in your love for God may not result in a closet or bathroom clean-out or you canceling your next cosmetic appointment, but it will cause you to think twice about how much time and money you spend on your appearance. 

So, cover up your grays, or don’t cover up your grays. Get botox, or don’t get botox. Go on a diet, don’t go on a diet. Buy high-end clothes, or don’t buy high-end clothes. But please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t for a second believe that your beauty, identity, and worth are wrapped up in anything other than the blood of Jesus. 

May the frequency with which you visit the mirror and the way you see your reflection be ever shaped by the truth of who you are in Jesus.

True confidence is Christ in you, not you with makeup on or a glassy forehead and lifted eyebrows.

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