I sat down for a moment waiting for the shower to be free. Rebekah said “You should wear your hair down today. It’s so pretty when it’s down.” I dutifully put it into a bun so it wouldn’t get wet in the shower. If I washed it, it wouldn’t be dry in time for church–and the pretty waves from yesterday’s braid would be gone.
I walked back through the living room after my shower. “Is that the only skirt you have?” Rebekah asked. Apparently I wore the same one to church last week. “Do you ever wear long jean skirts?” she asked. I said that I have in the past, although I don’t own one right now. She has a jean skirt, she said, but it probably wouldn’t fit me. I took the hint and offered to try it on. It fit–so I’m now wearing a jean skirt and have my wavy hair hanging free.
“Don’t you have any dress shoes?” I do, just not here. I thought books were a higher priority than shoes on the trip down. Shoes take up so much room–so I have only tennis shoes, flip-flops, and a pair of lightweight old shoes to wear if we go to the river. Much to Rebekah’s disappointment, she could not fix my shoe situation. My feet are much to big for me to borrow any of her shoes. She conceded that the flip-flops are the best choice, for what I have available.
“Do you ever wear makeup?” Yes, I do. Pretty regularly when I’m at home, actually. But once again, I had to pay attention to my priorities in packing. I had a weight limit–40 lbs for the carry-on, 50 lbs for the checked baggage. I had size limits–my luggage had to fit within certain dimensions. And there’s the government’s rules about carry-on liquids, gels, and the like having to fit within a quart sized Ziploc bag. Oh, and there was that little thing about bringing books. Books got me awfully close to the weight limits on both pieces of luggage; hand sanitizer and medications got me close to the limit on the liquids. Makeup just didn’t fit into the equation.
“I have makeup. Maybe some eyeliner?” I hated to let her down, but with my allergies and the hypersensitivity of my eyes to developing infections, I just knew that wouldn’t be an option.
I showed her some pictures this morning on Facebook–wanted to introduce her to my family. She saw my “Posh Spice” pictures and said wistfully, “You wear such pretty dresses in the pictures.”
Rebekah loves beauty and places such great store in looking good. I almost feel bad that I didn’t bring along more “pretty” stuff. Maybe it is time for an upgrade. But then again, maybe not. I’m here to teach, not to be look good. Brains are more valuable than beauty in this instance. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t harm Rebekah to see that the externals–makeup and clothing–aren’t what make a woman great, but that greatness is found in knowing God.