I’ve prayed many times over the years for God to show me what I need to change about myself and then help me to do it. And He’s done so many times; this time, however, was a vivid reminder that God sometimes shocks us into change and can do so in a creative and sometimes humorous manner.
It had been one of those days. You know the kind when nothing goes right? No thing. Not even one. And I was exhausted and ready to go to bed for the weekend if I could have gotten away with it. And I should have gone to bed -- even for the night -- but I didn’t.
Instead, I yelled at Ian. For something important, I’m sure, like not taking out the trash last month or helping me with the laundry last week. Something so important that I don’t even remember now what it was.
And then, in the midst of my irrational tirade, I caught a glimpse of myself, reflected in the window of our family room.
Wearing one of Ian’s old, white undershirts, covered with chocolate pudding (sugar-free, fat-free, of course) that had dribbled down the front, I had a bleached blond streak in my halo of tangled, ratted hair and black mascara circling my maniacal, yes maniacal, brown eyes.
And then -- the pièce de résistance -- globbed on my face over red splotches that had appeared on my 57-year-old skin was white baby Desitin for somewhere in an hour of desperation I’d read that Desitin dabbed on the face helped the skin! I mean, just look what it does for a baby’s bottom! Oh dear! And once more, to quote Conrad, “The horror! The horror!”
Aghast, I ran and washed my face and then immediately went to bed, realizing that the humiliating horror of what I saw reflected in our back window was actually an answer to my prayer for my reflection showed me, quite vividly, what I needed to change, and it wasn’t the Desitin even though that, too, was quite idiotic.
Embarrassed, I was also relieved for God, undoubtedly, has a sense of humor. Seeing the ridiculous way I looked and acted was more than comic relief, however, in the midst of a tragedy staged by a tired woman acting, no overacting, like she was on death’s door when all she needed was to go to bed and rest; but it was comical. And it was most definitely God’s answer to my prayer.
Lord, show me what I need to change.
And He did.