A Little Symbolism...

1,000 apologies to my boy Vernon back in the 254 for neglecting to post on my blog for like 20 years and both of my other faithful readers...insert chuckle here...Anyways, I have a myspace account thing since I've been back in SC and have been posting a few things there bc most all of my youth are on that piece. So, here's a little post for my blogspot and I'll do much better w/ posting to this one also.


While riding home from church Sunday I began to think about something that happened to me earlier and then started to analyze it (shocker!) and found it to be a bit symbolic.

As I was walking around The Attic (the youth room) early Sunday morning before any of the youth—or anyone for that matter—were at the church, I noticed something unpleasant about my gray dress pants. I was wearing my gray dress pants, a button down shirt and a tie w/ a navy blue sports jacket. I mean I looked good…really good *wink*! However, at the bottom of where my right pocket is, there was about a 1½ in. tear. Not cool, but no worries bc it was easily covered up by the sports jacket and I’ll just get one of the older ladies in the church to fix it back up for me. I keep on going about my business and some of the youth are coming in when all of a sudden, FUMBLE!! The top button of my sports coat popped right off onto the floor. Alright, now this is getting reediculous. I’m lookin’ all debonair and what not yet I’m falling apart everywhere!

I got up early enough to go for a run, relax and stretch, fix a nice breakfast for myself, get a nice shower, shave, shine my shoes (yes, I still do it bc I’m a loser), put on my pants and make sure my tie and shirt are perfect, put on my navy blue sports jacket while looking in the mirror and grab my Bible on the way out lookin’ good and smellin’ great! I was perfectly dressed, in “my Sunday best.” What a funny statement—“my Sunday best.” I took such great care and concern to make sure I looked “my Sunday best” to go to church and made sure everyone would see me at “my Sunday best.” However, underneath it all, I have rips and tears and my buttons are falling off. Sure, I can cover those rips and tears up w/ something and nobody will see them or even know that they’re there, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re still there. And I know I’m missing a few buttons—as those who know me will agree to that—but I’ll just pick ‘em up off the floor and sew them back on later. That’s probably not gonna be the last button that I lose either. What a ragamuffin I am!

Now, I could go into a whole long discourse about my issues w/ how the church is so intent on looking our “Sunday best” and dressing ourselves up to look all nice when we’re falling apart right before each other’s eyes, yet scared to express it or even let each other—much less admit to our own selves—get a hint that we don’t have it all together. How people will get judged/condemned by others in the church when they do show it even though they’re the ones who know what it’s all about. We sing “Amazing Grace” and yet have no idea what it is or even ever experienced it to know that “amazing” doesn’t even begin to describe grace. I’m not even gonna get into all that.

So, here’s to those who know they are pitiful and have not loved God, others, and their selves, knowing they fail at truly loving, but keep pushing on knowing that True Love never fails. Here’s to those who have come to grips w/ this fact and cry out w/ Paul, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Here’s to the ragamuffins…


“To name is to love. To be Named is to be loved. So in a very true sense the great works which help us to be more named also love us and help us to love.” -Madeleine L’Engle in “Walking on Water”