Insane Courage; False Promises; and A Mustachioed Woman

Sometimes, all I truly need is 20 seconds of insane courage.  

Tucked securely in my little black thing, I slide it into reverse, Rolling back into the driveway,  I quickly glance at the neighbors, I can't have any spies giving my undercover escape away. (The Doctor didn't say I couldn't drive, but then again, I guess I didn't ask him...) Dropping it into drive, an uncontrollable wave of excitement washes over me. I hear myself giggling. I feel the warm wind blowing in through both windows and across my skin.  I have to wonder if this is how a butterfly feels after coming out of its cocoon and is getting ready to fly for the first time.  Oh how I wish the hardtop was off!  I have not been in this driver's seat for 34 days.  I feel like a dog whose owner has left the gate open!

Picking my way carefully to my first destination, I withhold my overwhelming desire to apply extra pressure to the gas pedal. Dropping the snail mail into the slot, I continue on to the school for a very special delivery.  This very carefully designed plan needs to avoid as many staff and student eyes as possible.  The goal is to slip in and out.  Now is when I wish I had taken a James Bond course in invisibility tactics.  Silently backing into

a space I shut the motor down and signal my inside contact to present herself.  Time is ticking.  Hurriedly, she exits the building.  Walking at the pace of a scared zebra, she is desperately attempting to hide the smirk.  Her slow, rhythmic headshake proclaims my naughtiness.  Slipping down between the cars, I hand her a small wrapped box that holds a token of appreciation for all that she does.  As quick as it started, it is over.  

This entire interaction was simple enough except for one little itty, bitty detail.  She didn't seem to look at my eyes when I was talking to her.  Her gaze was fixed about two inches lower on my face. Running through every possible reason - food in teeth; booger hanging out my nose; bad breath?  Dismissing these ideas, I reach up and flip down the visor mirror.  Talk about perfect lighting!   With one glance, my eyes instantly lock on the horrific scene.  I can't believe what I see.  When did this happen?!?  Why did this happen?!?  I NEVER felt it happen! Denial instantly sets in - Is that really ME in the mirror?  My thoughts were as tangled as Grandma's yarn.  Without thinking, my hand finds its way up to my upper lip and my fingers are poked by the firm gray and translucent bristles.  These bristles would make any 20 year old male jealous! There are enough of them that they could be harvested for an eyebrow brush!  

Trying not to exceed the speed limit, I throw the little black thing into drive and head for home.  Arriving at my residence, I quickly make my way to the sanctuary of my bathroom.  Even though no one is home, I lock the door.  Praying that I can locate the "Magical" 2 oz., pink and white tube, I start searching.  Minutes

slide by but I am not dissuaded.  The anxiety snake is slowly starting to slither up my torso. Inhaling deeply, I head to the other bathroom. Reaching into the last drawer, my hand lifts out the precious, life-saving tube.  Now before I go any further, you should probably know this one little fact about me.  I have this thing about where hair does and does not belong.  And at this moment, I am horrified by my discovery and desperate to remove this mustache from my face.  I do not want to be a mustachioed woman!

Using a Q-tip, I thickly spread the pink goo onto my upper lip. This seems to only make these bristles more visible, but I have no other option at the moment.  Thinking the prescribed

five minute wait will never end, I soak a wash rag in hot water pray with the intensity of someone on about to be sentenced for a crime. Breaking the heavy silence, my phone alarm explodes.  Faster than a snow cone melting in hell, I wipe the pink goo away.  To my astonishment, every single hair is still there!  This product's promises are false!  The anxiety snake starts whispering louder that I might just have to take this problem outside of the sanctuary of my locked bathroom and get professional help.  

Pure desperation is now taking over and extreme measures are required.  I do what any other girl in this situation would do, I reapply and wait five more minutes.  Again, I wipe a corner of my upper lip and the blasted bristly hairs are still attached!  Disbelief is setting and I am NOT about to lose to this mustache! Ignoring the warning on the label - I wait fifteen more minutes.  (Yes! You are reading this right.  Risking a chemical burn, I waited a total of 25 minutes!).  Whispering a self-serving prayer, I ready a fresh white washcloth

and wipe the left and side off - THANK YOU Jesus, the mustache is no longer on my face, but is embedded in the fibers of the washcloth.  I repeat on the other side.  Allowing every ounce of breath to escape, I run my fingers over my now smooth, clean upper lip.  Thank goodness for the 2 oz., pink and white life-saving tube for it has made me clean!  I wonder if this chemical would work in other places?  Hum...

Maybe you don't  yearn for something that would take away all the hair and make your upper lip smooth, but you yearn for something deeper that would wash away all your wrong-doings?  Something that would wash away the grime that sticks to us as we journey through this world?   Something that would make your soul pure and clean?  Today, would you consider accepting a gift?  A gift is not repayable?  A gift that cost God His ONLY son?  

Do you know that He saw through time and He looked at YOU and said, "I love you so much that I will give my son's blood to be spilled out on a cross, to make you clean and spotless? He willingly allowed Jesus to be put on a cross to pay for our sins. He watched His ONLY son die for you and me. THAT, my dear friends, is true love!  All we have to do is accept His forgiveness and we can be made clean.  Jesus was the sacrifice for us.  He took our place.  Prayer is like having a chat with God.  Just start talking, I'm sure He is waiting to hear from you.

May we never forget the true gift of Good Friday!  

Until We Chat Again,

The Plank-Eyed Girl

Romans 4:25   New Living Translation

He was handed over to die because of our sins, and he was raised to life to make us right with God.

John 3:16  New Living Translation

"For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.