Wrinkle Cream, Here I Come

Tonight, some of my friends and I helped another friend host a dinner for some ladies from the Lovelady Center. We do this every so often, and it's always so much fun. We all pitch in and bring food, help serve the ladies, and spend time chatting with them during the evening. If you ever need to know how to start a flame to light your cigarette or make make-up from coffee grinds while in prison, some of these ladies can give you some pointers. I'm praying I never have to use any of this information, but I'm keeping some tidbits stored in the back of my brain just in case.

Seriously, it's a great step out of my safe, sheltered little life into the harsh reality that is this sinful world we live in. You get to see lives restored by the power of Christ and lives still shattered by sin. It makes my little life seem very boring...in a good way. But I love the transparency that many of these women have. We are all just sinners whom Jesus has rescued. Many have nothing to hide and will talk with you about things that many "good, church-going suburbanites" would never share with you. Of course, some of these women came from settings much like ones I'm familiar with. You just see how quickly lives can be wrecked, but also how faithful God is to those who seek Him.

So, I'm sitting there enjoying my delicious meal without a soul asking me to cut their food or get them seconds before I even sit down to my firsts. There is some of the usual chit-chat...do you work, how many kids do you have, have you ever done any time...when one of the ladies looks at my friend sitting next to me (knowing we both have four kids) and asks, "So how old are you? You look like you're 20!" My friend blushes politely and replies, "I'm 32." And they all oooh and aaaah over how youthful she looks and how they want to look like that at the ripe old age of 32 and they just can't believe she has four kids. And, let me say, she is very youthful and beautiful (on the inside and out). And then...AND THEN...nothing. No one turns to me and says, "And how old are you because you simply can't be a day over 25?" Nothing!

Well, there you go. It was so ridiculous, but I wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. Naturally, I spent the rest of the evening weighing my options as to what dermotological treatment I should seek. Or maybe it's a plastic surgeon I need. Forget ministering to hurting souls...I look old! I reminisced back to the days when I was getting married and people would exclaim..."How can you be getting married? You only look 15!" Or when I was pregnant with Maddie and people would insist, "You look like a child yourself." Gone are those days when others would think I was at least five years younger than my actual age!

I said I was going to be real with you people, and I'm just telling you, it's not easy to concentrate on a conversation with people who, by their silence, are telling you that you look like you have one foot in the grave! You know what led to all this? One sleepless night too many! These sweet, precious children are slowly sucking the youth and the life out of me. (The only problem with that theory is that my friend has as many kids as I do.)

There was nothing left to do but to accept my elderly appearance, lay my pride down, and put a smile on my face. God must really have a sense of humor to throw this at me just as we're finishing our book on brokenness. If an incident like this won't bring you down to size, nothing will.

So, I will pick of the shattered pieces of my broken heart and move on with life. What little life I have left, anyway. I suppose I'll start looking into nursing home options soon. And I will choose to think of myself as so obviously oozing with wisdom and maturity that people simply assume I am older than my peers. Come to think of it, I was wearing my glasses tonight, and people keep telling me how smart I look in them. Yes, now that I think of it, that must be it. Whew! Glad I solved that one. Now I'm off to find that wrinkle cream.