You Are What You Wear?

Whether it’s Michelle Obama’s fashion sense or the flood of commentary following a red carpet event, we are bombarded with what people wear.

I see how other moms dress their children, like something straight out of Cookie Magazine or a Gap Kids catalog. While I make efforts, some days I’m lucky if I’ve helped remind my girls to put on underwear. It’s a good day if I’ve remembered to wash their face before they’ve walked out the door. And I’m okay with that. Why? Because think of how many people stare over pictures of themselves in brown and orange mismatched 70’s getups and laugh at the clothes while reminiscing over the good times. Do they really care how they were dressed? No, the clothes actually become more of a conversation boost and something to bond about.

Do clothes matter? Are we what we wear? There’s no denying that I feel more accomplished and “with it” on the days I actually change out of my PJ’s. But don’t you think our country goes a little too far with defining people by their apparel choices?

Take Michelle Obama for example. Why on earth is what she wears even a hot topic? I think I’ve heard more about what she wears than what she’s accomplished as First Lady. That’s just not right. And why are there hundreds of pictures in magazines each week depicting ladies in Hollywood in their dress down, sloppy-wear. Why are we surprised to see them that way, or rather why does it send a reassuring chill down our spine to celebrate that we aren’t the only ones who can look sloppy? I won’t even mention Jessica Simpson’s choice of the 80’s style mom-jean. Ohps, just did.

I’m not saying that a sharp outfit from J. Crew or a beautiful ensemble from Ann Taylor doesn’t do it for me. I’m all for class (and comfort too by the way) but I don’t think it should be what defines us. I know, I know, appearances count, make a good impression, put your best foot forward…blah, blah, blah. I agree, it’s just something laughs inside me whenever I see someone like Bjork in her swan dress at the Oscars or when I think of John the Baptist gnawing on a locust in his sandals and perhaps a loin cloth. I’m secretly thrilled by it. Why, you ask as you begin to worry about me again. I like it because it shows they didn’t care.

Now, maybe I’m going too far to the other extreme…but that’s what you have to do with the pendulum sometimes…you need to swing it so everyone can rest easy in the middle somewhere. That middle for me would be the desire to present yourself well, spirit and mind first, appearances following, with the wherewithal to know when you’ve placed too much emphasis and importance on how you look.

Are you what you wear?

Halo & Prom

I’m thinking of prom. Not my prom, though I must say whatever memories I have are sweet and special. The guy I went with became a pastor and is doing wonderful things at his church. This doesn’t surprise me. He always had a kind heart; he was prepared and eager to follow God’s lead.

I’m thinking of prom because I’ve been talking to the group of teenage girls I lead who are getting ready to go. Flashes from Pretty in Pink come to mind. The dress hunting, the high school DRAMA…so much of it, especially on the night of, and most of it fabricated and drawn out to make the night more “interesting” I suppose.

I’ve heard Beyonce’s song, Halo on the radio and have wondered how many proms will have that as the theme song. It’s a pretty song really, the melody, the pounding beat…but the lyrics…oh those lyrics. They make me nervous.

“Standing in the light of your Halo

I've got my angel now…

Baby I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away…”

(It will fade away by the way…).

I had all kinds of relationships before I met my husband. I was primed to pour my heart into any guy that made me feel special and that’s why these lyrics make me nervous. A boy, a guy, a man or any qualifier of the opposite sex cannot save us (nor can we save them).

In fact, I’ll go so far as to say that guy you’re dancing with, he’s just as screwed up as you are. He can’t get you out of your feelings, can’t make your life less complicated for you, or can’t carry you away on a white stallion (he can barely afford the car payments to his folks). Men weren’t made to save women. Women weren’t made to save men. We have but one Savior.

I’m a sucker for romance and I’m inclined to tell myself to chill out. The lyrics, the song – it’s pretty…it’s no big deal. Yet, anyone who has placed someone else (or has been placed) on that pedestal, as that filler, as that person to take them away from it all, the one to heal or to save, well, they know. They may not know now, but someday they will. It’s a dangerous and unfair place to put someone. They’ll fail. They weren’t made for it and worse, you’ll feel you’ve been deceived in your romantic fantasy, from your dream and your hope of relationship when really it was never supposed to be like that.

You can’t put a halo on the head of someone it doesn’t fit.

Ask my husband, I crave intimacy, physical closeness and deep connection and I can be just as sappy as the rest of them in my cravings. I know though, only God is able to meet certain needs. My husband can be a glimpse and a reflection of relationship with God, but even in all the ways he loves me, sacrificially and intimately…it will never come close to the way God loves me, to what he sacrificed for me.

I have two visions of God’s halo.

His halo was the crown of thorns pressed into his skull as a mockery.

His halo lights up the world.

And that…that makes me dance.

Hannibal Time

It's Hannibal time. I'm not referring to the treacherous Hannibal Lecter from The Silence of the Lambs...I would not do that to you. I would not do that to myself. That character freaks me out to no end. I am referring to Hannibal and his infamous elephants - The Conqueror of the Alps.

Part of the reason I liked Western Civilization is because of stories like Hannibal's. I still wish we learned more about what was going on with the women at that time...but I'll get back to Hannibal's conquests. My husband and I watched a fascinating documentary on Hannibal the other night. I'll make no excuses...I like a good documentary every so often. And this one was good, more because of all it reminded me of than because of its intrigue.

Hannibal, the Carthaginian military commander of 200something BC headed for Rome defeating his rivals in battle after battle. I love how he garnered credit and praise for bringing the elephants. The idea of him and his thousands of troops marching over the snowy Alps with their line of elephants does wonders for the imagination.

Towards the end of the documentary, history experts shot off their opinions to why they believed Hannibal was as successful as he was. Strategy, surprise attacks, the elephants...all kinds of reasons were provided for his success. However, when one expert said the following words I was at full attention. He said, "Hannibal knew how his enemy would fight."

Bang. There you have it. I realized that statement about Hannibal is a foundational spiritual truth for anyone of faith. While you are at your weakest, do you know how your enemy fights? Do you know what makes you most vulnerable and what strategies might be used against you?

I couldn't shake the thought really. It's crucial for us to realize what we're up against. When we do realize and choose to tap into God's power and strength we are invincible, not in a reckless teenage, "I'm immortal" way, but instead in a "I have the same power in me that raised Jesus from the dead" way. That is living in victory.

Do you know how your enemy fights?

At Least Once in Life

Everyone needs to be in a food fight at least once in their life.

Litmus for Perspective

Remember conducting litmus tests in chemistry class, testing the acidity of an agent by dipping that little strip into a glass filled with a mystery liquid? I do. I hated chemistry.

But I did appreciate how, based on those experiments, I've learned to conduct litmus tests in my life. It's my way to keep myself in check.

My litmus test for whether I'm keeping things in perspective is as follows:

• Have I been turning matters of relationship and reaching out into items on my "to do" list? It's all well and good to make a note to remember a friend's birthday, but it hit me today when I came across a note that's been on my counter for the last three days to write a note to my daughter's preschool teacher to comfort her after the death of her father. I don't want that kind of thing on my "to do" list. I want to do it without needing a reminder.
• Have I allowed any one thing to be the sand upon which I stand? Sinking, sinking, sinking. A rejection letter, a sharp word spoken, even "a look" from someone I care about. When I've placed any one of these things or a list of other countless things higher than where I'm at with God and what he's trying to teach me...sinking, sinking, sinking.
• How crabby I am. This one needs no further explanation.
• How quick I am to swear when something angers me.
• How oblivious I am or I become to judging others.

That's my litmus list for perspective. Those are some of the key indicators to me when I'm off kilter. Fortunately, I know the way to get back "on kilter." I get back up on the rock when I remember who I'm here for and why I'm here.

Do you have a litmus test for perspective?

The Rest of the Family

I won't claim to know what most mothers of preschoolers think about during the day, but I do doubt they spend as much time pondering over the kinds of things I do. Doctors are still trying to figure out what's wrong with me. That being said, I really wish I could sit down with all of you so you could see my expressions and be able to tell when I'm just joking.

Okay, onto my latest thought--Adam and Eve. I've been thinking of them, but not gallivanting about the garden or gnawing on the apple type of way they are usually discussed. I've been thinking instead of them as parents. I've been imagining their response, their shock, and their sadness when they learned one of the their sons killed their other son. What did it do to them to know Cain killed Abel?

See, we do that don't we? Often when we hear of a tragedy or a violent act we think of the victim and the perpetrator. Hardly ever do we think of the rest of the family. Growing up, I had one older sister highlighted in the local newspaper for glamorous reasons, while another older sister made the paper for not so glamorous reasons. Townspeople probably thought about my sisters when they read news of them...but I wonder, did they wonder about my folks at all? Did they think what it might be like to be the parent or sibling in such circumstances?

Why is it that I've never heard any commentary on Adam and Eve as parents? I've been trying to picture their moment of discovery...the reaction to the loss of their son by the hand of their other son. Did they look at each other in that certain way, that knowing way, without words because the pink elephant was quite obviously the apple? Did they immediately blame themselves as so many parents do for the failings and stumbles of their children? What did dinner the next night look like? Did Cain go right to Nod, east of Eden immediately after his "talk" with God. My mind is flooded with questions about this story. I think the heart of it for me is thinking about the rest of the family in the aftermath of a tragic event.

Jodi Picoult explores this in her books, Nineteen Minutes and My Sister's Keeper. I'm also reading as Swede and the rest of her family struggle through this after the shaken event they endured in Peace Like a River. And I have to be honest...it strikes a cord. Has anyone in my family murdered anyone? No. Have there been tragic events? Yes. Being a witness to tragedy changes you...it changed me. And it gives me empathy for the families of both victims and offenders.

Sifting through questions about the story of Cain and Abel also makes me thankful for the messed up people in the Bible. I'm tempted to tidy up what I just wrote, to make it sound less needy for the Bible to be filled with people I can relate to. However, I'm thankful for just that. Because if God loved the messed up people in the Bible, he also loves those in my family and he also loves me.

Under the Sun

"What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." ~ Ecclesiastes 1:9

I've been thinking on this one today. Actually, I was thinking on it last night when I got up, unable to sleep and went to the kitchen for a chocolate chip cookie. I haven't really stopped thinking of it. Do I believe it...well, sure. But do I sense that God is introducing a spin on it in my life...well, sure.

Uh oh, you may be thinking...she's going to mess with the Bible. No fear. The Word is the Word and there's nothing I can do to change that (nor would I want to). What I am getting at, is that I wonder once we've received the Holy Spirit and are in relationship with God...is there then something new under the SON? Under his direction, can we create and inspire something new?

God's given us spiritual gifts and has wired us with a thirst for creativity. We crave the creative in our home lives, in our marriages and in our parenting. We crave the creative to show up by a work of our hands, our writing, our art and our various ways of expression.

Maybe, just maybe, with God's Spirit, the Counselor his son left with us...we are able to create something fresh, something original--something new. Just chewing on it.

And as I keep chewing, U2's quote, "Every poet is a thief" rings in my ear reminding me what may seem "new" is most often just a form of the old, a borrowed expression, a reinvented something...and I take the circle of of this thought right back to the Bible...is there nothing new under the sun?

What do you think?