Correcting God's "Mistakes"

I have been a fan of "The Simpsons" since it first went on the air in December 1989. It's a show that has aired during all of part of four decades, folks. And though the program is not as good as it once was, it can still teach some important life lessons through its unique blend of satire and humor.

Recently, I caught a rerun of an episode from a few years back that I hadn't seen before. In it, Homer visits a plastic surgery clinic that contains the subtitle "Correcting God's Mistakes" on its marquee out front.

That's certainly how the Angry White Loner views plastic surgery—as an attempt to fix God's "mistakes." That's also how he views such things as dying his hair until he no longer remembers what color it should be, getting tattoos, wearing toupees, comb-overs, excessive amounts of makeup, tanning, piercings, etc. Please don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that you are evil or wrong if you have pierced ears or dye your hair on a regular basis or have a comb-over, though the lattest certainly may not improve your chances with the ladies. That's just the Angry White Loner's reasoning behind not doing any of those things to his own body.

I relate this concept to Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin's final general conference message before passing away in 2008, a talk titled "Come What May, and Love It." Aging gracefully, as I see it, is certainly one way to accept whatever happens and to embrace it as life goes on. I certainly didn't expect to start losing my hair in my 20s—who ever does?—but I accept it and can roll with it.

But Angry White Loner, you say. You wear glasses. And they're sexy as all get-out. Isn't this one way of correcting a "mistake," as by natural processes,you became nearsighted sometime during the fourth or fifth grade and often cheated on eye tests until finally succumbing and getting contact lenses and, later, glasses?

That's a fair point, but this concept doesn't apply to things to make our lives "better" or "normal." No, I am referring to cosmetic choices.

Even with the many things we might change about our bodies if we only could—weight, height, eye color, hair color, complexion, immune system, handicaps, chronic illnesses, and any and all other "thorn(s) in the flesh" that Paul spoke of—we each have, I hope, at least one or two features of which we are enormously proud. And by this I mean the good kind of proud—the kind of proud that makes us look at a photo of ourselves or in the mirror and then look up to Heavenly Father and say, "Thank you for giving me this feature!"

One such thing I can say that about is being a ginger. Though I no longer have as much hair as I once did, and even though what hair I have left on top is no longer red, I was born with red hair and had red hair for my first few birthdays. Then, by natural processes, my hair turned blond and remained so until I was 11 or 12, and then it changed colors again and became brown and then dark brown. (Odds are, it will change colors once again the older I get, assuming it doesn't all fall out.)

A few years later, when I found that I was able to grow facial hair and no longer worked at a company that required me to be clean shaven, I discovered that I could grow a rather awesome red-haired goatee and/or beard. And it's one of the things I like best about myself, physically speaking.

In summary, I suppose, the point I am trying to make is that God doesn't make junk. Our bodies are by no means perfect, but they are the creations of a perfect being. And that fact, in and of itself, makes us, in a sense, pretty amazing creations.