Smoldering Brown Eyes and a Neck that Smells Like Toothpaste
October 11, 2011
A few weekends ago, I was getting ready to attend a Friday night wedding several hours’ drive away. I chose an outfit, combed my hair, and laughed about the incongruity of applying evening make up at 1:30 in the afternoon. (Men, you’ll just have to take our word on this.) Realizing my necklace looked tarnished, I remembered a home tip I had heard of applying toothpaste to tarnished metal for a fast shine.
Minutes later, with goopy blue Colgate gel congealing into the crevices of my necklace, I realized with horror that the home remedy probably meant white tooth paste. Laughing at myself, I submerged the necklace into the sink and tried to wash away the blue. “Look for me at the wedding,” I chuckled to myself. “I’ll be the one with smoldering brown eyes and a neck that smells of toothpaste!”
Later that night, smelling minty fresh, I watched from a pew as the bride and groom stood before us all and made promises. Their eyes stared deeply into each other’s eyes, obviously having faded away from all other sounds and sights, save the words and the promise and the looks that asked, “Really? Just me? You mean this?”
I sat enraptured by the glimpse into their minds and hearts. There is a vulnerability in a man’s and woman’s eyes at that point, when they ask, “Really? You mean this? You are promised to me, and I am promising myself to you, and this is a vow before God, before this church full of people.” Beautiful, tender, and then they kiss, and the eyes shine out, and the view in their eyes is different, less vulnerable, because the conversation for now has passed, and their attention is turned.
It strikes me later, after the glistening soap bubbles floated into the night air, amid laughter and spills; and the horse-drawn carriage pulled away, and the reception ended. My God whispers his vows to me, and I so often stare back at him, eyes wide and vulnerable, “Really? Me? Forever?”
Too often I forget the radiance and the glistening wonder, and still feel like the girl on the pew with the neck that smells like toothpaste, striving instead of resting.
Hi, thanks for stopping by. What has God been talking to you about this week? Can you relate to feeling like the girl on the pew sometimes?