I love irony, twists, unexpected symbols. My favorite word is "Serendipity". Thus, it was typical of my life that the first semi-formal event I would attend in six years would coincide with an injured foot that could not tolerate the weight of my sheet at night on it. Not only would I need to find a way to sheathe my throbbing toe in some slinky, high-heeled device, but it would be the first time I would be meeting my husband's co-workers and boss.
So with my toe gently ensconced in warm sheepskin, pillow soft boots, I headed out for the hunt. Lacking any fashion sense of my own, I first e-mailed photos of several outfits for my friends to choose which, if any, would not win "dork of the year" award. They all voted for the same outfit, but my sister who knows classy dressing told me the boots had to go. If I must wear them, she advised, I had to get black stockings.
I considered sandals, with open toes, as then the poor injured toe would not be squished, but that option meant fellow diners at our fancy dinner might get a glance at it.... and that would have been most unkind of me. So I limped from shoe store to shoe store, holding my hands out like a battering ram in the crowds to keep all stomping feet away from my already aching toe. I even went into a store that normally my cheapskate homing device sets off ear splitting alarms when I near. I knew I could not afford any shoe in that place when I noticed the fresh chocolate chip cookies and Perrier for the customers.
"Are those free?" I asked. The raised manicured eyebrow of the saleswoman should have tipped me off that I was in the wrong social milieu.
"Can I help you?" she asked before I had an opportunity to surreptitiously look at the price tag.
"I have an injured toe and have to wear semi-formal shoes tomorrow night," I said,"Do you carry anything that doesn't hurt?"
She admirably did not tilt her nose upwards as she surveyed the shoes on her rack. She pulled down two very beautiful open toed numbers.
"These....don't hurt," she advised. As she slinked back to get my size, I looked at the fine Italian leather soles with the price tag embossed on cloth. Nearly $300. How much did I want to dance? I munched on a cookie quickly, before she returned to discover I had no intention of buying the shoes, and thus had no rights to the cookie.
Thankfully, the shoes DID hurt, and I thanked her, not knowing I had chocolate smears at the corner of my mouth.
The tenth store that I wearily slogged into was more in my price range, and I picked out dozens of high heeled shiny black numbers. The saleswoman there brought me armfuls of shoes. Each time I tried one on, I winced and tried to imagine staying upright in them for more than one minute. Even without an injured toe, I probably could not walk more than a few feet in them.
I left her with 432 boxes to put away and realized as I hit the last possible store, I had run out of time. It was buy a shoe here or go to the semi-formal in my slippers.
The saleswoman brought me two shoes, with my instructions to find me something that would work at a semi-formal, and would not hurt, or show innocent passerbys my toe.
The first pair had barely squeezed on before being rejected with squeals of pain. However the second pair did not hurt....as long as I didn't move. If I could be tele-transported to my seat at the semi-formal, and not move, I would be beautiful. They were elegant and glorious shoes. However, as soon as I tottered upright, I knew they would never work.
"I'll take them," I exclaimed impetuously.
As I drove home I gazed at them. Gorgeous shoes. The sort of shoes that Academy award winners wear with such grace and beauty. I tried them on for Asherel when I got home. She agreed they were magnificent. Then I tried to walk.
Immediately, we both drove back to the store and returned the shoes.
I knew there was a spiritual lesson here. There always is. I could not cover unhealed wounds,any more than an unholy core. I could not pretend they were not there, no matter how many layers of sparkling beauty greeted the eyes of others. I remembered Jesus' words to the outwardly pious Pharisees-
"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.
Matthew 23:24-26
I will probably not be dancing tonight.
The lesson is you need to LISTEN. I had no objection to boots, merely to your boots being too short and those exposing knee boobs between top of black boot and bottom of black skirt. No one likes big white knee boobs. If you're gonna be a knee nudist, at least get a tan! Hence, the black stocking recommendation.
ReplyDeleteLove, Hol
Argh THUS not THOSE...Holly
ReplyDeleteI love your sense of humor Vicky, and the way you relate your stories to Scripture.
ReplyDeleteHope the toe feels better soon.
:) Jennifer
My friend Matthew forwarded the Tigerette story to his ex-wife, who loved it, but also winced at the overt religious references. You will need to decide how broad an audience you wish to have, but if you want a larger audience than the Christian homeschoolers you will need to jettison a lot of the God stuff....your Christian audience should get the message anyway, and you won't turn off the rest of your secular readers....
ReplyDeleteI believe these stories will appeal to a broad group of readers. Very important, of course, for publishing. However, consideration should also given to your goals. Yes, your Christian audience will see the Biblical principles. But what a wonderful venue for reaching those who have no such knowledge! God can take these wonderful antidotes, combined with the blessed truths of Scripture, and use them in a mighty way for His glory. Isn't that our purpose as believers, after all? What is really going to count for eternity? Only the Lord knows the particular readers out there who can be reached for Him by the wonderful reminders of God's love, justice and grace.
ReplyDeleteI couldn't see the pictures. :^( But I did think the outfit on the cover of the album was okay looking.
ReplyDeleteWendy, half the fun is trying to figure out what God is telling me! That is the whole point for me, of well, everything! Without that element, there is no "writing on the wall" . Now, can you tell me why my blog is called Writing on the Wall?
ReplyDeleteIf you don't want the "God" message, usually you can just skip the last paragraph.
hugs and smiles,
I like the religious messages and tie-ins, Mrs. Kaseorg. I don't think there's any reason to shield your faith - that's what defines you. I'm loving the blog! Keep up the good work! ;-)
ReplyDelete