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Out To Pastor
I was drinking a cup of coffee in the middle of the shopping mall. I don’t like going to shopping malls, but The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage sent me to get a new dress shirt for Sundays.
While enjoying my coffee for a moment, I watched people as they walked by. It took me a while, but I began noticing the people walking by me.
One person was walking toward me, and I almost fainted. I have seen ugly people before, but this one baked the cake.
Then, another person was coming my way who looked as ugly as the first person I saw. I begin to see ugly people all over the place.
The longer I sat there, the uglier people were as they walked by. But I got to thinking— maybe they were looking at me and thinking I was the ugliest person they’d seen all day. At that moment, whenever anybody walked by and looked at me, I smiled—just in case.
When I got home that night, I hung up my new shirt and went into the living room, where The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was setting.
“Did you get the dress shirt I sent you to get?” She said very sarcastically.
“I did,” I said with a smile. Then I sat down, looked at her, and said, “Do you think I should go and get a facelift? And if so, where do you recommend I ought to go?”
As soon as she calmed down from laughing, she said, “The recommendation I would give you is that antique store just around the block.” Then she laughed some more.
Around our living room are pictures of our children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. Looking at them, I responded, “Aren’t those children cute? They look so lovely, don’t they?”
Of course, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was on my side with that and agreed that our grandkids were all very cute.
I then got serious and asked her, “What if some of them grow up to be as ugly as me?”
I heard a loud gasp from her side of the room, and when it quieted down, she said, “That’s not possible!”
I then went to my computer, where I had a bunch of photographs. I pulled up one and showed it to her. “What do you think of that picture?”
She looked at it and said, “That’s a very cute young boy.”
“That picture is of me when I was young. Now look at me.”
I brought up another cute picture and showed it to her. “Do you know who this is?”
She smiled and said, “That’s a picture of me when I was young.”
“I wonder,” I said sarcastically, “if ugly runs only in my family.”
All I heard from her side of the room was snickering, and I wasn’t going to ask any more questions.
“Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price” (1 Peter 3:3-4).
My heart is more important than my face.
