Sunday, January 10, 2010

[AK-SES-UH-RIZE]


I need work in the area of accessories. The kind that glitter and bounce and tie and bangle anyway. I just can't seem to put it all together the way it should look. It doesn't work for me...you know? The mannequins in the store make it look so easy. If I was a size 0, it probably would be easy. Haven't seen any size 18 mannequins dressed to the nines and accessorized lately. Pretty chokers and wrapped scarves look much better in the abscense of neck fat. Long, dangling, ornamented type necklaces hang much more delicately (and "even" for that matter) if you are a Victoria Secret size 36B or less. I think I was 18 the last time I sported that number. Target's faux everything, oversized rings can only accessorize my pre-baby weight fingers. That was 23 years ago.

I feel disturbed about this. I wonder if I should contact the government and seek my fair rights? After all, I should not be discriminated against when it comes to looking my best.

Faced again with this unparralled desire to accessorize my plain ol' outfit as I readied myself for church this morning, it occured to me that some accessorizing  I do in my life, doesn't hang on a store mannequin longing to be purchased . No, these accessories, for the most part, are paid for by experience...and they aren't very ornamental or shiny.

Somewhere over the years, through the ups and downs, hardships and hiccups, I have "purchased" the accessories of bitterness, harshness, rudeness, complaining, judging, criticsizing, gruffness, and others I can't name. Ugly would describe these and there is not a mannequin in this world that would wear them in hopes of luring takers.

And yet sometimes, I wear them with pride. "Hey, I am who I am. Like it or not, here I come" might be a common conversation going on in my head or "So, you don't like me...do I care? No." might be another. After all, it has been through sweat and tears that I have acquired these.

[I-PIF-UH-NEE]...."a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurence or experience."

I had one. And the "simple, commonplace occurence" was words spoken to me by my son. In what seemed to be a mere moment of normal commands to do something, he asked, "Why are you so mad all of a sudden?" And that was my epiphany. I didn't know I sounded mad. Did I sound mad? A quick playback in my mind, to my tone and words just used, confirmed he was correct. Wow! Why did I talk like that?

It didn't take long for me to recall many other times I had probably been perceived as mad or harsh. Most people just don't call me on it. I just don't think I realized. When I mentioned this to my husband, he quickly but very kindly concurred and added, "It gets even better when you feel really passionate about something." Great! It was an accessory donned for all to see that had become such a part of me, I didn't even know I was wearing it. And if I think wearing a long, dangling necklace over my larger than 36B's is unattractive, what do I think this looks like? No question, all above mentioned accessories, fat and all, would make me look like a size zero in comparison.

And so now I am faced with the ever challenging, always icky feeling of knowing I must change. Can anyone just say "Ugh!" with me? Will I ever get it right? I don't really like that song played on KLOVE 50 times a day, "He's not finished with me yet" for good reason. I'm ready to be finished with. In less than two weeks I will be 45 years old. When I was 20, I thought everyone in their 40's was old, first of all, but all knowing and wise for sure. Did I make a wrong turn on the path of maturity somewhere?

In all honesty, I don't think so. My path is not a road less traveled. I walk with  many companions. With all the twists and turns, this thing called life...and being Christ like in it...is just tough stuff. Not for sissies, that's for sure.

One consistent accessory, purchased that is, that I wear is my wedding band along with the wedding set my grandma left me when she died. I'm not sure if you have this problem but, have you ever looked at your hands in the morning and not been able to see your rings for all the swelling? Just a little water weight but you know, if at that very moment you had to take those rings off to save your life, it would cause more alarm in you than your alarm clock does. That is how I feel. This ugly accessory I am wearing needs to come off but it is causing quite the alarm in me. Must I run to the jewelers and just say, "Cut it off! Hurry before I change my mind?" Or do I take the calm approach and feel rest assured that with a little time and soap, it will eventually slide right off? After all, this accessory has "beutified" through years of life's pain. Cutting it off may cause a reaction I can't handle and the slow approach might leave room for more ugly moments.

I don't have the answer to my own question. I can only think of One who does. And this is why I love God so much. He doesn't expect me to do this on my own. If I will just come to Him with this ugly accessory, He will, in His time and grace, remove it gently. I can dress myself to the nines till the cows come home but if I don't let God do all the necessary accessorizing from the inside out, all the glitter and gold adorned on the outside won't matter anyway.

So, I humbly submit my ugliness to Him. Really. I have these things that need to go. And thankfully, His stuff makes all the difference. After all, He is a designer.

"Remove the dross from the silver, and out comes material for the silversmith." Proverbs 25:4

...Ironically, just as I finished this post, I received an email from facebook saying "so and so" left me a message.  I clicked on the message and this is what it said:

"Hey Robin, so good to see you on FB. Not sure if you remember me. I attended NWBC in 83-84. I remember your sweet spirit and devotionals!"

What?! She remembered my sweet spirit...Wow! Now that is an eye opener. I really did wear the accessory of a sweet spirit at one time. Probably about the same time I wore a 36B. Funny.

1 comment:

Dawn said...

Oh Robin, I can so identify!