One of my favorite movie lines is from that old Jim Carrey movie Liar Liar. Carrey’s character Fletcher is talking with his son, who says, “My teacher tells me beauty is on the inside,” and Fletcher replies, “That's just something ugly people say.”

I’m not proud that I laugh hysterically every time, but I do. In our culture, “inner beauty” does kind of sound like the Tooth Fairy of traits—totally made up but leaves you a dollar’s worth of happiness here and there. Of course a dollar doesn’t buy much.

So I used to secretly roll my eyes at that “inner beauty" verse in the Bible. It seemed that its purpose was to remind us that we weren't supposed to care about being beautiful on the outside. The problem was that no matter how often I was reminded of this, I still cared, my friends still cared, anyone brave enough to admit it still kind of cared. The message was ineffective. We felt like we either had to pretend not to care (and does anything good ever come from pretending?), or we had to believe we were vain. The options weren’t great.

But one day I decided to set aside my annoyance and read it purely, and I realized that “don’t care” message is not even close to the point.

Here’s the verse: “Your beauty should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight ” (1 Peter 3:3-4).

My fellow extroverts will praise God alongside me that Peter isn’t speaking about personality. Your outsides ought to be as loud or quiet or hyper or calm as God created you to be (YAYYYY), but our insides? They should be gentle—tender, mild, soft. They should be quiet—calm, unmoving, free of turmoil. We should be at rest, content with ourselves as we are. It doesn't mean the denial of our desire for outer beauty, but rather our redemption from its enslavement. It's replacing striving with contentment and stillness, and knowing that it's in the contentment and stillness that true, timeless beauty lies.

Loud beauty shouts, "Tell me I'm pretty!" It's the language of selfies and layers of makeup and elliptical addition and curated Instagram accounts. But quiet beauty? It rests. It does not have to strive because it has already arrived. Dear one, what if you're done? What if you're beautiful right now, without doing one more thing? Quiet beauty looks in the mirror in awe that God can create an entire being out of nothing. It whispers with thankful lips, "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14).

If loud beauty is the aggressive, breathless crashing of wave after wave, quiet beauty is the glassy surface of an undisturbed lake. It reflects the sky above, displaying the wonders of the moon and the stars and the sky that extends into greatness we can barely fathom. Its beauty provides relief to those who see it.

"We know women like this—we recognize their beauty and enjoy it. We leave their presence soothed, encouraged, calm. We know women who are the opposite—we recognize their beauty and resent it. We leave their presence tense, insecure, overwhelmed by all that we are not.” (From something I've written before.)

Quiet beauty is powerful because it not only invites our insides to rest but it also invites others to rest. When we curate quiet beauty in our hearts, we will do our part to break the chains enslaving our friends, our daughters, our sisters. It's the gospel story etched on our faces: God created me in His image; God loves me as I am.

Quiet beauty is the sleepy lullaby a loving father sings over his precious daughter. He stares at her face and has no doubt: There is not a single thing she could ever do to be more beautiful. Her mere existence makes his heart soar, her every movement makes him marvel. She sleeps with a smile, in full knowledge that she matters, that she is treasured, that her father delights in her.

Quiet beauty is one way that we can love God with all our minds (Luke 10:27). We take each thought captive (2 Corinthians 10:5), replace it with truth, proclaim to the mirror that we are who God says. I keep Psalm 139:14 and 1 Peter 3:3-4 posted on my mirror so that I can look at truth when my mind shouts lies.

If loud beauty is the clang of chains, quiet beauty is the sound of chains falling. To paraphrase the beloved song, you're no longer a slave to the mirror. You are a child of God.

One moment too soon, perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, the mirror will hiss: "Those love handles? That cellulite? It's disgusting. Get your act together." But we will not allow mirror hisses to disturb the serene waters in our hearts, waters that wash over us with the message of truth: You are already beautiful, right here, right now.

To the woman reading these words, hear your loving Father, who rejoices over you with singing (Zeph. 3:17): "Beautiful girl, come and rest."