Trashy Treasures

Last Saturday, me and a friend went on an antiquing binge.  Because we're 85 year old adrenaline junkies.  We can't help it.

Here is Yours Truly feeling funky fresh in her "Jackie-O" glasses.  

"O-yes" is what I say to that.

The quintessential Raggedy Ann Doll.  Every girl had one growing up, usually in a pair with her lover, Andy.  This particular doll struck me really odd.  Her "eyes" make her appear as if she's done something really sinister.  Either she's pooped her pants or set the neighbor cat on fire.  

This picture of old arcade games is really meant to appeal to my siblings who read this blog...   *tap-tap-tap* I.T.T.O? (Is this thing on? That phrase rolls through my head so often it deserves its own acronym)  Five words, H&L:  Weyandts basement.  Sunday afternoon.  Amen.  

The Queen of Hearts.  

And, yes, you are seeing this correctly.  I remember picking up the aforementioned plate to reminisce about the late Diana's personal charisma and devotion to numerous charities and humanitarian causes. Then, in holding the plate at a slight angle, I recoiled in horror when it revealed a snarky Princess Di with a wonky eye.

I knew I had to buy it then, if only to take it out of circulation to prevent soulless people from pointing and laughing at the plastered mishap.

Then it dawned on me.  I don't actually have a soul.  So, I immediately called my friend over and we both doubled over laughing. Then I chased her around the store holding the plate to my face and growling.  

Any Given Monday

See that sickly lime-colored pine on the left, laying on its side on top of the hill?  That's my ex-Christmas tree.  You can't see it clearly, but the steep of that hill is set at about an 85 degree angle (at least in my mind). At any rate,  it almost required ropes and a pick-ax to climb.  I think you climb with a pick-ax?  If any of my readers have climbed Everest and could confirm this, I'd be most grateful.  I wouldn't want to look ill-informed on my own blog. That would be unchartered territory, for sure.

Here is the kitty that comes to my window with regularity.  Friendly, huh?  Once I let him because it was really cold outside.  Cold enough that I could see his kitty breath as he was bossing me.  I happened to be on the phone with my brother when I opened the door and let him in.  Slinking around on my pristine and sparkling wood floors, he decided to back up against my freshly painted wall and mark it silly.  Butt-graffiti if you will.

"Holy Moses! Bip, I'll call you back."

Before my OCD rage could render me useless and clutching my chest, he dashed over to my dining room and marked a few chairs, and then on to a neighboring door frame to continue his glandular nonsense.  I shoved him out the door all while shouting, "No, Sir!" Because even a naughty cat deserves some respect.

Sunday Skool!

Would you believe that Yours Truly has been put in charge of instilling biblical truth to young, impressionable minds?   Me neither.

It's dangerous.  And it's a bad idea.

In my minds eye, I see God casually flipping through his iPhone 7 (he's light years ahead of Jobs) and zeroing in on Greenbrier County by utilizing his Google Earth Ap, he sprays his celestial coffee across the room...

"Wohhhh.  Can't have this happen on my watch...  Michael!  Silver PT Cruiser... Rt 12... spook some deers.  Post haste!"

Now that I have everyone's attention and abject horror at the thought of relegating God to a mindless lifeguard of little souls, let me continue on...

We discussed how all are descendants of Adam and Eve (and Noah if you believe in the biblical account of the flood) with our own unique DNA, intelligently encoded by a loving God.  Sounds simple, right?

I explained to the kiddies that DNA provides human kind with some uniformity in that most are born with a head, two arms, two legs, two eyes, etc.  However, DNA also provides information that makes us unique and different from everyone else.  People are born with different eye, hair and skin color, some are tall, some are short, some are smart and some are superbly dumb.

I hoped to loosely cement (an oxy-moron, yet accurate) this principle in a little game of "Telephone".  This childhood game works by whispering a sentence to your neighbor and they whisper what they heard you say to their neighbor and so it goes down the line until it gets back to the originator, typically a mere shadow of what was actually said.  My ingenious plan was to point out the similarities between the original and ending sentences but also acknowledging the words that were tweaked along the way, [in]effectively showcasing how DNA gets passed down from generation to generation to yield similar and differing traits.  What I could not prepare for was the utter annihilation of "See the red fox jump over the lazy blue dog" into "Susie sniffs dog butts."

Weeping, I told the kids, "Never mind.  God loves you."

Truth is, I kind of dig thinking up crafts and silly games.   It's where my mind is.

Exhibit 1

At this time, I would like to draw your attention to the stick figure at the bottom.   If you are unable to see it clearly, let me do your eyes a favor...

Exhibit 2

Disturbing, no?  I was sitting on my couch Saturday night, laughing uproariously at my artistic prowess in creating this stick-kid with oven mitts for hands.  The phrase "stick-kid" still makes me laugh.  At any rate, the children were instructed to color in their hair and eye color, as well as draw on some clothing.  This was Children's Church, for Saint Pete's sake. But mostly I just got confused looks.  "Why do I appear to be on stimulants, Miss Bonsey?"

"I dunno, Johnny.  I dunno.  God loves you, okay?  Here's some animal crackers."

Lessons From Eve

Why did God curse Eve with loneliness and heartache, an emptiness that nothing would be able to fill?  Wasn't her life going to be hard enough out there in the world, banished from the Garden that was her true home, her only home, never able to return?  It seems unkind. Cruel, even.

He did it to save her. For as we all know personally, something in Eve's heart shifted at the Fall. Something sent its roots down deep in her soul- and ours- that mistrust of God's heart, that resolution to find life on our own terms. So God has to thwart her. In love, he has to block her attempts until, wounded and aching, she turns to Him and Him alone for her rescue.

Therefore I Will block her path with thorn bushes;
I will wall her in so she cannot find her way.
She will chase after her lovers but not catch them; she will look for them but not find them. (Hos. 26-7)

These words are an excerpt from a book I have now read two times.  Although a simple read, the concepts were profound and relevant to modern day femininity including her pit-falls, glories and the questions she brings to the world for answers. 

The author contends that women spend their lives looking to be filled and fulfilled by relationships in every form.  Not to say that men do not desire these things but they do not serve as their focal point.  Women on the other hand thrive and place much of their earthly energies in preserving and nurturing those relational ties as they are foundational to her happiness and sense of fulfillment.

It follows that if women were created for interconnectedness, we must also recognize the utter vulnerability it presents in a fallen world.  Looking to others, flawed in their own flesh, to validate our sense of worth and fulfillment is grasping at disappointment.  God created our feminine nature and called it perfect; sin destroys and marginalizes its power.

In the book, Stasi postulates that all are all born asking a set of questions.  Little girls and grown women in particular ask of the world and their men, "Am I lovely?  Am I lovable?  Am I enough?"  If she is fortunate, good men will answer in their humanness that, indeed, she is all those things.  An unfortunate woman will search until she is given an answer sometimes with tragic, soul-killing consequences.

In short and as a matter of personal application, I recognize that my "knight in shining armor" is a man who is incapable of making me whole not because of who he is but because of who he is not.  This is not a referendum against him or his character as much as it is an understanding that he is unable to satisfy me because I cannot be satiated, at least not completely.  It is not his burden to answer my deepest questions. Although flattery, cookies and diamonds are downright helpful in the interum.

Instead of letting that realization paralyze me with fear or feelings of loneliness, I choose to acknowledge that while he or any other relationship may function as an invaluable part of my life, they cannot be where my value and sense of security is affirmed.  This is both freeing and necessary to bring me back to the One who cleanses this stained and unlovely woman, places a crown of beauty on her head and deems her, in all parts, worthy.