Life's too short to wear sensible shoes
I love shoes - as do most other women that I know. I especially love high heels. My new-found love affair with heels has nothing to do with the fact that, without them, two (almost three) of my sons are taller than me. Nothing. I'm absolutely sure. I just really like them. High. (BTW: is forcing the boys to walk around with books on their head considered child abuse? Anyone? just randomly wondering.....)
My oldest attended his first Homecoming dance a few weeks ago. Outwardly, I was so much more excited than he was. Inwardly, however, I believe that the tables were turned. What a joy to watch a person grow and develop right in front of your eyes. He looked so utterly handsome in his dress slacks (which I KNOW you don't call them "dress slacks" in front of other teenagers - so I'm slow to learn....). Standing there, grinning, smelling delicious, eyeballs seeing spots because the camera keeps flashing, he's ready. I called the posse and we were off. To Mass.
Rewind to three days prior. First of all, don't ever fool yourself into believing that only girls are concerned about fashion faux pas. Boys are just as distressed about looking just right within the boundaries of teenage criteria. With a discerning eye, we got it on the money and he did a 'trial run' complete with a walk on the runway - to Grandma's.
On our way home, he says "hey ma, when are we leaving on Saturday?"
"Oh after Mass I guess. We'll have plenty of time."
"Then when am I supposed to get dressed?"
"um, it might be nice to go to church in some clothes, dontcha think?"
"ha ha. I mean when am I supposed to get ready for the dance."
"Well, let me tell you something a priest once told me that has always stuck with me: God doesn't care what you wear to Mass...but what are you telling yourself about Mass if the nicest outfit you wear all week isn't to church?"
"So what your saying is you want me to wear my new outfit?"
"No. What I'm saying is I never forgot that. I'm saying that, when I get ready for work and feel I look good, I'm remembering that I'm made in the Image and Likeness of my Creator. I want to honor Him. Should that follow me to Mass? I believe so."
"So......I s-h-o-u-l-d wear it to Mass, right?"
"Bud, this is your own decision. I'm just saying that if I go to a wedding, I dress that nice for Mass because God allowed me to have a gift of a lovely dress and good friends. If I'm camping, I wear something that doesn't stink like campfire and thank God for the gift of rest. It's all relative."
"OK, Mom, but what is your answer? You want me to wear my dress outfit?"
I smiled and walked away.
Frustrating for him, but ever so awesome to call the boys upstairs to leave for Mass the next day and see him looking so handsome in his new outfit. What a way to glorify. Plus he distributed Holy Communion. I don't have to explain to any parent the fact that I was speechless and spilling over at the same time.
My attitude toward worshiping and receiving my God sets the stage for how I allow God to work within me. I love shoes. I love to look nice - and love it even more that I can do it all on a shoestring budget (think 'repurposing') My life is too short to wear sensible shoes - I don't have much time to tell God I want to thank Him for all my special gifts that help me outwardly 'see' what I should know inwardly; that I am made in the Image and Likeness of God. So I wear heels. And if it allows me a bit more time to be taller than my kids, all the better.
My oldest attended his first Homecoming dance a few weeks ago. Outwardly, I was so much more excited than he was. Inwardly, however, I believe that the tables were turned. What a joy to watch a person grow and develop right in front of your eyes. He looked so utterly handsome in his dress slacks (which I KNOW you don't call them "dress slacks" in front of other teenagers - so I'm slow to learn....). Standing there, grinning, smelling delicious, eyeballs seeing spots because the camera keeps flashing, he's ready. I called the posse and we were off. To Mass.
Yes, to Mass.
Rewind to three days prior. First of all, don't ever fool yourself into believing that only girls are concerned about fashion faux pas. Boys are just as distressed about looking just right within the boundaries of teenage criteria. With a discerning eye, we got it on the money and he did a 'trial run' complete with a walk on the runway - to Grandma's.
On our way home, he says "hey ma, when are we leaving on Saturday?"
"Oh after Mass I guess. We'll have plenty of time."
"Then when am I supposed to get dressed?"
"um, it might be nice to go to church in some clothes, dontcha think?"
"ha ha. I mean when am I supposed to get ready for the dance."
"Well, let me tell you something a priest once told me that has always stuck with me: God doesn't care what you wear to Mass...but what are you telling yourself about Mass if the nicest outfit you wear all week isn't to church?"
"So what your saying is you want me to wear my new outfit?"
"No. What I'm saying is I never forgot that. I'm saying that, when I get ready for work and feel I look good, I'm remembering that I'm made in the Image and Likeness of my Creator. I want to honor Him. Should that follow me to Mass? I believe so."
"So......I s-h-o-u-l-d wear it to Mass, right?"
"Bud, this is your own decision. I'm just saying that if I go to a wedding, I dress that nice for Mass because God allowed me to have a gift of a lovely dress and good friends. If I'm camping, I wear something that doesn't stink like campfire and thank God for the gift of rest. It's all relative."
"OK, Mom, but what is your answer? You want me to wear my dress outfit?"
I smiled and walked away.
Frustrating for him, but ever so awesome to call the boys upstairs to leave for Mass the next day and see him looking so handsome in his new outfit. What a way to glorify. Plus he distributed Holy Communion. I don't have to explain to any parent the fact that I was speechless and spilling over at the same time.
My attitude toward worshiping and receiving my God sets the stage for how I allow God to work within me. I love shoes. I love to look nice - and love it even more that I can do it all on a shoestring budget (think 'repurposing') My life is too short to wear sensible shoes - I don't have much time to tell God I want to thank Him for all my special gifts that help me outwardly 'see' what I should know inwardly; that I am made in the Image and Likeness of God. So I wear heels. And if it allows me a bit more time to be taller than my kids, all the better.
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