Behold, I lifteth up mine eyes after a heated ‘Father Forgive my sins’ session, and there coming from my extreme right was one adorned in a garment that covered her completely, but only from waist downward. Waist upwards was a nearly naked story. The cut at her back went so low I counted twelve spinal columns, only four remained hidden. The sparse clothing upwards allowed her hefty bosom to give me a five-inch smile. And there, nestled between those two outdoored twins was a symbol of Calvary.
Who? Who was there to save the Savior? Certainly not me, because moments after I had to repeat my ‘Father Forgive my sins’ session.
Sometimes I feel we have a misguided sense of what pleases God and what He’s cool with. We’re like the eager toddler who drags his mother to come see all the Picasso-level multicolored crayon drawings he’s done on the white sitting room walls. “Mummy, mummy, you see I can draw?” he asks eagerly. Her dilemma is between murder and disinheritance. In the end she smiles weakly before reaching for a cane (I’ve just revealed to you a snippet of my childhood).We discolor and disfigure so many precious gifts from God and march into His presence with blind boldness. O forgive!!
But back to the cleavage business Read the rest of this entry »