My dearest minions,
As bluebonnets surround the 'hood and I begin to threaten to show my pale, bubbly legs out on the greenbelt trail, the annual question surfaces, " What the crap am I going to wear to celebrate my Lord's resurrection?" I was raised in the Baptist tradition. This meant that, on Easter Sunday, we went the full Un-Monty. I am talking gloves, hat.... the works. While I don't know if my huge, fluffy head can pull off a hat even ironically, and me showing up with gloves might give my pastor the impression that I was campaigning for a "Mimes for Jesus" troupe, the new dress WILL happen.
Now I know, in this world of American Idol worship music and casual, "come as you are," attutude, this may ring a bit off topic as far as salvation is concerned. Little blessings, I refuse to take criticism from lifetime Christians who show up to the house of the God looking like they just mowed the lawn AND ran a 10K. Add to that, the attitude of "if you don't dance to this groovy music and raise your hands like Christ just scored a touchdown, you don't have the SPIRIT, I do!"
Well, my sweaty, scrunchy-wearing, body issue-laden, sisters, my Spirit will be found at White House, Black Market this Lenten season. Amen
I don't get it. Most of us run around all week in exercise clothes looking all homeless as it is. We all look like we have cedar fever limping up and down the aisles of the HEB. I have visited other churches in the last decade, in which Easter Sunday looked like a sad funeral at Chico's. Don't you want to shake the surly bonds of mommy jeans for one chance, just one chance that, time make take our thighs, but it will never take, OUR KITTEN HEELS!!!!
Where has all the fabulous gone?
I feel I should point out that all peoples, new to the faith and with serious church issues are not being called out here. Serenity shouldn't be stymied by an A-line skirt, I will give you that. Any financial barriers to dressing up are not to be even approached. The Diva is a kinder, gentler, Diva that has no desire to mock the unfortunate or wounded souls among us. The beotches that have been attending Sunday school since conception and show up in jeans and a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, "because it's cold!" Well, I am coming for ya, for three reasons;
1) We live in Austin, the one mildly nippy Sunday followed by a Monday hot enough to swim, will not kill you.
2) "Wool blazers were made for a reason." Diva 4:11
3) If my Lord ( not sure He's still yours, sweat pant, slouchy, sinner) could suffer under horrible torture and take upon Him the sins of humanity, that we might dwell in His house forever, YOU, Bertha, can consecrate yourself for His worship with some Walmart slacks and mascara.
A side category in the men's department (although in the Hill Country, we have given up with the introduction of Formal, hunting gear) is the Youth Minister. It is the individual's job to make Jesus seem ultra hip, and thusly approachable for the Justin Bieber crowd. So go ahead, sir wear the groovy necklace, layered shirts, jeans and sensitive boy-band Christian hair. I have respect for the fine line you must tread to be somewhat cool, whilst avoiding the look of a guy on "To Catch a Predator." Good on ya.
This Easter Sunday, let the Peace of Christ descend upon you all. The Grace He has is unending. Salvation is is there for you even at the last breathe of your life. His forgiveness is unconditional.
I am a judgmental Diva who will be scoring your shoes and accessories.
Selah
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