Somewhere on my body I’m a size 6. My ring finger is a size 6 – that’s it – that’s all that ever will be without a tremendous amount of effort and the resulting pouting on my part (because I can’t have a cookie).Last night I went returning.
Returning as many women may know, is backwards shopping. Someone gives you something and for whatever reason, you must bring it back. Maybe that someone who gave you something was you and your wallet, but for whatever reason it must go back to the store from whence it came.
Mostly I like returning, it often results in cash in my wallet and just in case you didn’t already know, I rather like money. In fact, I like it a lot! This time though, returning wasn’t very fun.
First, I was returning something pretty. A gift from someone I dearly love, who definitely had me in mind when she picked it…but it didn’t fit! So off to Macy’s I went. Let me tell you – I would much rather try on bathing suits or oh, perhaps, anything than try on lingerie again. It’s winter and everything’s static-y so everything “clings”. There were lumps and bumps and unflattering angles that I didn’t know existed. There were the complicated straps and ties and frills and I felt slightly like the Incredible Hulk trying to get out of some of those delicate and “oh so demure” garments. I tried on every assortment of styles and fabrics, knowing full well that my flannel monkey pajamas are not appropriate for the wedding night…my self-esteem was deflating but I pressed on.
I finally found something I could live with…not great, but decent. I made my exchanges and went on my “I’m so fat! I hate my body!” way. Now, for those of you who’ve been to the Trumbull Mall with me you already know that I always park outside JC Penney. So, even though I returned things at Macy’s – I still parked there. On my way through JC Penney to the parking lot I figured I’d stop in their intimates department, just to take a look.
Hey, did you know Valentine’s Day is coming? Well, it is, and that means that most things are pink or red or slutty…and, well, there was quite a bit to choose from, but hiding in the midst of it all was something nice, so I gathered a few things and went to try them on.
I finally found it! It was perfect. I looked beautiful in it. I looked like a bride! I looked like me! My eyes weren’t drawn to all the places I didn’t want to look at – the whole picture was me – the me that I send off to work every day all fresh-makeup’d and clippy-haired…well, not in a flimsy nightgown, but you know what I mean. It’s entirely possible that she’s the one Court sees when he looks at me – but I never see her. I see that I didn’t do my hair again, or this outfit isn’t quite up to my standards, or some other nonsense…but he doesn’t see it. He thinks my glasses are sexy and adorable, and I think I look like a complete dork.
God has shown me time and time again that more often than not, Court sees me like He does and not the way I do. God reminds me of this with the still, small voice, but sometimes He reminds me with scripture. Today he used Isaiah 55:8-9 “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” says the Lord. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.” Meditate on it…there are lots of ways that God’s thoughts are higher than yours and mine. He’s a big-picture God. But in my case and in this instance what He’s thinking is…”This is My daughter, and My son’s bride…what spot and blemish? I see none.”
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