Ugly on the inside

I recently got into a Facebook argument with some ladies I don't know. You ever do that? You get in a fight with strangers over a mutual friends post? My cousin was bitchin about basically having a dress code at church. She said at her church you were expected to dress a certain way. She was lamenting that the church had lost sight of it's purpose which is to worship and glorify God. It bothered her a lot. It bothered me too. In the 33 or so years I've known my cousin, she's always dressed modestly. So I'm not sure if her church had issues with her dress or someone else's and she was simply defending that other person. Either way, when these self-righteous ladies started going off about how you gotta look good in church, I lost my mind. Their argument was that your outward appearance was a direct reflection of how you look on the inside. Basically if you dress nice (according to their standards) then you are spiritually right with God. Amen! Preach it, sisters! When I asked them to back up their claim with the Bible, they wouldn't and couldn't. One of them even said it wasn't in the bible. You don't say?!
I just got back from the Bahamas a couple weeks ago. Stayed in Nassau. Wonderful people. Loved how laid back they are. Something I noticed while riding the bus: the outside ring of the island where the beaches are, where all the tourists are, is kept clean and pretty. There are litter crews working early every morning to make it look good for all the visitors. But if you head inland where the tourists don't go, it's a whole different world. It's dirty and ugly. The streets are bad and lined with filth. The buildings and houses are poorly kept. You see what I'm getting at? They keep the part of the island that people see all pretty and clean so we think it's a tropical paradise. But the inside is still ugly. I think the ladies at my cousins church are a lot like Nassau. They primp and prep and make themselves all pretty on the outside, hoping we won't take notice of how they look on the inside. Unfortunately for them, God doesn't look at our outward beauty. He looks inside at our hearts.

Sanctuary

A pastors wife once told me, "fat looks better with a tan on it." That's what plays over and over in my head. I'm beginning to understand why Quasimodo would cry "sanctuary!" from the bell tower as the giant cathedral bells would ring and drown out all other noise from his mind. As I sit tonight on my dad's front porch I find sanctuary in the giant wind chimes gonging in the breeze. They help to stifle the repetitious phrases in my head. Fat looks better with a tan on it. Do insane people know they are insane? Maybe sometimes. There are those brief moments of lucidity when they know things aren't as they should be. Those moments are few and far between. And what to do with that time? There's so much to think about in such a short span of time. In the beginning, you cry out to God for help. Help me stay here in this moment for just a while longer. Eventually you just use that time to untie the knots. Because it is in those short snippets of time that your jaw is slack and you're not grinding your teeth. It's in that time that you relax your hands and your fingernails are not digging into your palms. You can breath, even if it's just for a minute or two. Eventually you may begin to wonder if you should take the advice of Job's wife and friends: curse God and die. Fat looks better with a tan on it. Why do depressed people drink alcohol? It's a depressant....hello? Wouldn't caffeine or speed be a more logical choice? Sanctuary! I wanted to name one of my kids Quasimodo. But I decided I didn't want him to fall in love with a gypsy. Do they have tanning salons in Scotland? I know they have fat people. Then you start to hurt yourself but after a while you forget why. Was I punishing myself for something? Was I doing it so I could feel? Maybe the pain helps to keep one foot in this world. God knows you don't want to get stuck over in the other side. I don't remember why fat looks better with a tan on it. If I ever get to Scotland I'll ask. White noise is bad. It doesn't really drown out the bad people. Have you ever read a book by some obnoxious author and you think, 'if I ever meet this guy, I'm gonna rub jalapeños in his eyes.'? Then you download their podcast and realize people with lisps shouldn't be preachers. But at least they have a good tan. Must be from Scotland. Good night, Quasimodo.