Yesterday the prostitute my sister and I have been ministering to looked at us and said, "I can hardly believe you're Christians. You look a little wild." Every time I think of that statement I laugh out loud. I know she didn't mean it as an insult, though some Christians would have taken it as one.
Sunday morning was rather warm outside so I stepped outside to the benches on the side of the apartment for a little fresh air. Before long many of the male tenants in the building were sitting with me. They were respectful, helpful and filling me in on the gossip mongers in the building. I know they wanted to be helpful, so I didn't call them out on their own gossip(though I made a mental note in my head). As I was sitting there a few of the women in the building came out of the church next door. I complimented them on how nice they looked in their (what I call church gear). They had on their big over-sized hats with matching long skirt sets. They looked like Christians.
My sister and I don't wear the big hats and matching ensembles. As a matter of fact we promised each other not to EVER allow anyone to dress us like that, even if we're dead. I can't think of any outfit I hate less. One little old women coming out of the church asked me why didn't I come to church Sunday morning. I told her I didn't know what time it started. She gave me a self-righteous look, and said it's started at 11:00 am and next Sunday she would knock on my door to pick me up so that I can sit with her on the "FRONT," pew. I knew that was her way of saying I did not look like a Christian.
Two different people both saying the same thing. One said it in love the other said it in hypocrisy. We had dinner with the prostitute, she visits us a lot, mostly because we give her unconditional love and support. She didn't mean it as an insult. We probably don't look like the Christians she has run across. We wear bright and stylish clothing, lipstick and big earrings. My sister has tattoos and piercings. We eat with the prostitutes and sit on the side of the building with the sinners. We get judged by the religious. We stand on corners praying with the prostitutes and homeless. We are about our Father's business. I can think of nothing I want to do less than sit on the front pew of a church building wearing an over-sized hat and self-righteous indignation scrawled on my face.
I like being Jesus's wild women. I told my sister that we look like Grace.
Fearless
Sunday morning was rather warm outside so I stepped outside to the benches on the side of the apartment for a little fresh air. Before long many of the male tenants in the building were sitting with me. They were respectful, helpful and filling me in on the gossip mongers in the building. I know they wanted to be helpful, so I didn't call them out on their own gossip(though I made a mental note in my head). As I was sitting there a few of the women in the building came out of the church next door. I complimented them on how nice they looked in their (what I call church gear). They had on their big over-sized hats with matching long skirt sets. They looked like Christians.
My sister and I don't wear the big hats and matching ensembles. As a matter of fact we promised each other not to EVER allow anyone to dress us like that, even if we're dead. I can't think of any outfit I hate less. One little old women coming out of the church asked me why didn't I come to church Sunday morning. I told her I didn't know what time it started. She gave me a self-righteous look, and said it's started at 11:00 am and next Sunday she would knock on my door to pick me up so that I can sit with her on the "FRONT," pew. I knew that was her way of saying I did not look like a Christian.
Two different people both saying the same thing. One said it in love the other said it in hypocrisy. We had dinner with the prostitute, she visits us a lot, mostly because we give her unconditional love and support. She didn't mean it as an insult. We probably don't look like the Christians she has run across. We wear bright and stylish clothing, lipstick and big earrings. My sister has tattoos and piercings. We eat with the prostitutes and sit on the side of the building with the sinners. We get judged by the religious. We stand on corners praying with the prostitutes and homeless. We are about our Father's business. I can think of nothing I want to do less than sit on the front pew of a church building wearing an over-sized hat and self-righteous indignation scrawled on my face.
I like being Jesus's wild women. I told my sister that we look like Grace.
Fearless
2 comments:
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