Praying for a buffet

I have a list of things I don't like doing. Things that I need to quit "not liking"- It's a work in progress. A very slow process. If you want to throw up a prayer asking the Lord to change my heart about said things, I wouldn't hate it.

Going to celebritory functions for people we barely know out of obligation is on the list. If it were up to me we would just send them a gift card to target in the mail. Tina is a better person than I am.

To add insult to injury, my morning was a wardrobe catastrophe. Tina insisted that the only thing appropriate for me to wear to said function was a black dress I've owned for the past 4 years. It's cute, but it makes me look like I have a muffin top. I have a muffin top, but I don't want to look like I have a muffin top. I like to live in denial. Living in denial looked like me wearing an obnoxious floral romper that makes me look like I have the build of a stocky 14 year old boy. I love it. It was also an immature act of rebellion against the black dress and Tina who, bless her heart, gets the brunt of my regression to a hormonal 15 year old when I'm home. Lord, help me and my school girl ways.

The romper was on. It was staying on and that's all there was to it. And then, I accidentally walked past my mom's full length mirror. What a mistake. The romper came off. The black dress came on. Once again, the mirror. Someone needs to get rid of that mirror. The black dress came off. The green dress came on. I had grown since wearing that green dress. No, surely the green dress just shrunk- in all ways possible. It was too tight. It was too short.

Tina was in the car laying on the horn because we were 20 minutes late. I was out of time and the green dress was it. Time was up. I was that girl.

We arrived at the country club on all of our late, frazzled glory. Rather, my late, frazzled glory. Tina, her petite self, looked precious in her plum little dress and tan skin and newly painted fingernails. I looked like a yeti wearing baby dress, chipping off my bright blue nail polish as we walked in the door. I was praying for a buffet. You win some you lose some.

The first person I saw was my pastor's wife. Immediately I tried to act like I had the modesty confidence of someone wearing a turtle neck and a floor length skirt. Ope. It was a no go. I was Bathsheba.

Praise the Lord my bestie got drug to the same occasion. Grace abounds. We hid in the corner and cuddled with her baby and laughed and ate chocolate covered strawberries. We covered my naky legs with the baby's blanket so no one could tell that my watermelon was nearly uncovered. I tried to look good and impressive and instead I ended up looking embarrassingly inappropriate. I dreaded the occassion and instead it was a delight. I think that's how God works sometimes. Showing that He's in control- and that our efforts are useless without him. That although we assume something will look one way, our human minds can only assume human outcomes. Praise the Lord we serve a redeeming God who makes beauty from ashes- and covers naky legs with baby blankets.