Let me set up the story a little bit. Homer and Marge (a name-change to protect innocence) are a couple that go to our church. They are awesome. Every time Homer sees me, he says 'rummatumtum' and tells me how much he enjoys my drum-playing. These people have a heart for young married couples- in fact they host a bible study at their house geared towards young married and to-be married pairs.
This isn't what they really look like, but if you picture them in your head, then it helps maintain the illusion.
In fact, our entire church body is awesome. It is primarily college-age peeps, with some awesome elders to boot. I'm not going to say too much about them though, as this is not the purpose of the blog. Suffice it to say that they are awesome as well.
So Homer and Marge are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary this year. For those of you who are not familiar with that concept, it's like celebrating any anniversary, except on a more grand scale, because it's 50 freaking years! I'm going to be turning 30 later on this week (at this point you are probably thinking that I'm writing this whole blog as a plug for my upcoming 30th birthday. You may be right), and to think that they were married for 20 years PRIOR to my birth is just like 'whoa'.
So they had a celebration at the church this past Saturday, and we initially weren't going to go- our lives are crazy busy, and I didn't really even find out about it until a couple days beforehand. But Sara bumped into some friends at the store on Saturday morning who said that we should go, there'd be free food and the Simpsons (name change again) really wanted the previously mentioned young marrieds to come and partake- and really, with the way most marriages unfold in our society, it isn't a bad idea really to celebrate two people who have remained faithfully in love for 50 years.
So around 12:30 p.m. on Saturday, we decided that we were going to go. I'll be honest- the big appeal to me was free food, although I do love Homer and Marge. So we throw stuff together to get ready, not even really thinking about the event, just the food...I had a black 'Ohio' sweatshirt that was in a Goodwill bag in the car (probably been there for three months), and I pulled it out and put it on. It didn't look too wrinkled, and I only have one other hoodie that I wanted to save for later in the week.
It hits me when we walk into the church and I see everybody else dressed up! What was I thinking?, I think to myself- obviously they are celebrating their anniversary, I remember that I was told they were renewing their vows, why wouldn't they have a formal shindig?
At this point I was a mental wreck. All I could imagine was every single person in the place looking at me in disgust, thinking evil thoughts about me, gossiping about me at their tables. I saw the marriage of Homer and Marge crumbling because of my wrinkled Ohio Bobcats sweatshirt and jeans. Well, I wasn't that self-conscious- but still, I was completely useless as a social being. All I could think about was how I was completely underdressed, and how nice everyone else looked. It didn't matter that there were other people there as underdressed as I was (including some prime timers), or that there is no reason for me to believe that I would have been judged by any person in that room (other than those that don't know me...but that's on them, right?). I created a little world where I was the center of attention and that attention was completely and 100% negative.
(Oh, I forgot to mention that the only open table was at the front of the church- so we had to walk by all the other tables to get to our table. This is probably played into the fact that I was so paranoid.)
Well, about an hour and a half worth of sulking and pouting later, I finally started to loosen up and enjoy myself (this was about the time that people were starting to eat, so they were able in my mind to focus on their food instead of my attire). I ended up having a good time. And nobody made any comments in church today about my fashion faux pas...
Even this might have been more acceptable than wearing an Ohio Bobcats hooded sweatshirt that had been tucked inside of a garbage bag for the past three months. Of course, that's just the power of big hair and zebra stripes.
The whole moral of the story is this underlying power that is at work in our daily lives. We are social animals, and so much of what we do, say, and think is programmed by forces that are outside of our control and understanding. On that day, the unspoken cultural expectation of what to wear on certain events was more powerful than my relationships with people. I did overcome- but not before I had squandered a chunk of time merely because of clothes that I was wearing! How ridiculous, right? And yet, how often we allow those types of things to carry significance in our lives. We've all done it. We've all been there.
Let's break this bondage then. Let's shake free from the forms of social control that hold us captive, even in the areas of mundane details. Let's live our lives the way God intended. Walk with me...the only way we can change the world is if we will change ourselves.
Pics
http://pics.hoobly.com/full/X6JRWVHE5DNGAYNKAY.jpg http://www.sfgate.com/blogs/images/sfgate/culture/2005/07/28/LadyBunnyGloves333x500.jpg
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