Painted Eyebrows

She painted her eyebrows on using her thumbs and shoe polish, or at least that was what it looked like. Her clothing bordered on something a clown might wear, and her lipstick was the kind of red that could make a Mustang convertible jealous. I gasped the first time I saw her, which was at the pulpit.

She bore her testimony every fast Sunday.

I was 19, new to the ward, and I am ashamed to admit that Sunday after Sunday I was in the attitude of pointing and laughing at her. Me. A young and still (relatively) pretty girl who had never known an ounce of hardship. A girl who I would eventually come to realize was a self-righteous brat.

I'm not sure how it was that my heart was softened, but one Sunday I received a Spiritual rebuke that I am not likely to forget. She was up at the pulpit, more talking than testifying and I was probably (more or less) rolling my eyes.

She had been sick and wasn't able to feed the birds, and that made her sad. In my mind I thought something along the lines of: Phbt. They're birds. They can find food for themselves. And that is when the Spirit piped up: Those are My birds, and I care about them, and she does work for Me by caring for them.

I felt instantly sorry for my attitude. Suddenly I realized that I was in the "great and spacious" building, pointing my fingers, laughing, and mocking.

I've thought on this experience often over the years. I wish I could say I've never judged anyone again for their appearance, or what they do, how they live, or even what they say from the pulpit on a fast Sunday, but I can't. I try very hard not to though, and I'm grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who loves me even when I'm stupid.

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Heather likes to think of herself as A Goddess in Progress, which is where she normally spills out the personal triumphs, failures, discoveries, and random details of her life.