Yesterday, we talked about the Atonement. Pretty serious stuff. Today, we're going to lower our sights a bit and go back to one of my favorite topics: my hot pink bra.
I can hear you moaning now. "Oh no, that silly old woman is going to talk about her bra. Again." Yep. There it is. If you are tired of hearing about my bra, feel free to tune out. I won't be offended. At least, not much.
The fact is, the bra is wearing out. One of the underwires (designed to keep the girls in place) is loose, causing it to move around in uncomfortable and even painful positions. At times, it even pokes through my clothes. And if that isn't embarrassing--to have a wire poke out like that.
Why don't I get rid of it? I love that bra. I love the color, one that I don't wear in my "outside" clothes as it doesn't flatter my pasty white complexion. I love the juxtaposition of a staid Mormon grandmother in a hot pink bra. In addition, the bra is (or was) comfortable. It and I have been together long enough that we fit. How long will it take me to develop such a relationship with a new bra?
And that started me to thinking. Could my worn-out bra have things in common with my sins? As I said, the bra is now uncomfortable, even painful. It's embarrassing. It's poking out, showing things I wish it wouldn't.
Isn't that the same with my sins? They started out comfortable. They were enticing. I'd developed a relationship with them. Now they are no longer comfortable, they are no longer enticing, and I've outgrown that relationship.
Why don't I get rid of them along with my bra? Easier said than done. It means going shopping for a new bra. And maybe shopping for a new set of sins.
Joy for today: contemplating getting rid of a bra and sins that no longer fit.