First, good to see you at church. Peace be with you even though we’re not Catholic, and thanks for complimenting me on my singing during the “meet your neighbor” time. You seem like a lovely person, and I am not just saying that because I’m about to get into a touchy subject.
(You know, how in the great state of Texas, we say “bless her heart,” to dampen the vicious blow that’s about to come next? “Bless her heart, the only thing more wiggly than her thighs is that grated carrot and Jell-o salad she thinks we want to see at the potluck.” This is not like that, you really did seem lovely.)
It’s about your outfit, honey. I am all for Sunday casual. Heavens, our minister wears flip-flops. I believe God created cleavage on the 6th day, and said it was good. I know that all the kids are wearing those low-rise jeans, and I applaud that. Conservation of natural resources and all. The 4-inch zipper takes up less of our non-renewable metal resources. Good for you! Go Green!
But here’s the thing. When you lean over to bow your head in prayer, the whole row behind you can see your random Chinese tattoo and about 3 inches of your ass crack. And this is not conducive to holy thoughts. It’s conducive to my 11-year-old saying “what do you think her tattoo says?” And my 9-year-old saying “I see her butt!” And my inner monologue saying “WTF!”
Which does not stand for “wholly thankful fellowship.”
I’m not suggesting a burka. Jesus loves you no matter what you wear. But maybe a longer shirt? Maybe a sweater tied around your waist? Maybe even, and this is a radical thought, a different pair of pants?
Sincerely,
Aware of All Your Blessings Now
And now, a bonus haiku just for you-know-who-you-are.
I judged not your low-rise jeans
Then, you bowed in prayer
Oh! Holy ass-crack, Batman!
I have a tramp stamp… I love that my husband loves it at 2am… I assure you I would not flash it at church. Not that I go to church, but the funerals and weddings I’ve been to since 2001, I have not shown it.
Tramp stamps are not for church.
I love that I’m your first blog comment ever. I’m going to get a tramp stamp that says “I was a first blog post” written in Chinese, placed on my lower back. Or calf. Whatever.
Now I was your second, too.
In which pews does this inspirational vision appear?
I am not worthy for what I am about to receive; Only say the word, and I shall be healed.
All these years I believed I was the only one who occasionally thought “WTF?” in church. Now I’m no longer alone. Thank you, soulmate!
Clearly I am sitting in the wrong section, since spotting a ho-tag has not been part of my church-going experience…yet.
The kids must have loved that one. hehe
I’ve seen this girl at my church too!!!
megan, no way! Please don’t tell LGV where you go, he may come looking for her!
I think I just fell in love with you.
This is absolutely hysterical.
I must thank Elle for directing me here!
Thank you, thank you so much! I so needed a laugh and that haiku pretty much sent coffee flying out of my nose. 🙂
I work with teens on a regular basis at work and your words perfectly describe what I wish I could say to ALL of them when they come in the office – the pants and the bellies hanging out and the bra straps showing every where – dear lord who dressed you – or didn’t I guess!