Pretending

Pretending

Don’t be concerned about the outward beauty of fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or beautiful clothes. You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within.

1 Peter 3:3-4

Flushed with excitement, I raced to the mall and blew into the clothing store.

Two employees hurried to my side. “May we help you?”

Relieved, I took a breath. “Yes!” Twirling so they would get the full effect of my desperate condition, I tossed over my shoulder, “I’m going to be a diplomat. I’m flying to the capital.”

Gasping in unison, they launched into action. One led me to a dressing room, the other gathered outfits—barking staccato orders on style and accessories. An hour and a half later, I exited with a wardrobe fit for a queen.

After hauling my load to the car, I fumbled for the keys and noticed my hands. Because I had kids and a menagerie of farm animals to care for, my hands and nails were rough. I tossed the garment bags into the backseat, spun around, and raced back to the mall. I knew what I was looking for—I had seen the commercial. I found them in the drugstore on aisle five.

When my big day arrived, sunlight reflected off my manicured nails as I reached for the door handle and heard the satisfying little clicks of long nails against glass. Smiling, confident, I entered the government building and hurried into my classroom. The instructor noticed me and crooked his finger. “Type something on this computer so everyone can see our program.”

“Sure.” As my fingers tap-danced across the keyboard, I noticed small objects arcing skyward. One hit the instructor in the chest. Someone gasped. A press-on fingernail hung from the instructor’s lapel. I glanced down and saw that all mine were gone.

—Colleen Luntzel

Forgive me, Father, for being so concerned with outward beauty and for pretending to be something I’m not. I want to look my best, but please remind me that you care more about what’s on the inside. Amen.