Diet & Wisdom Appetizers

During these dog days of summer, living in Phoenix is something akin to taking a trip to the surface of the sun. It’s hot. How hot is it? To quote Robin Williams from a scene in Good Morning Vietnam, “It’s damn hot!”

I had a support group meeting last night and I wanted to dress in something that wouldn’t stick to me walking to and from the car and make me all sweaty. I don’t own a pair of shorts these days, so that wasn’t an option for me. I opted for a lightweight summer skirt and layered tank tops with a kicky belt. I thought I looked okay – not great but comfortable, temperature wise at least.

It’s the sleeveless thing that’s a major issue for me and tends to dictate my wardrobe. I’m uncomfortable with my “bingo arms” (amongst other things) but facts are facts. And the fact that it’s 197° outside cannot be ignored. Comfort takes precedence over flabby arms.

Something always seems to happen once I leave the safety of my home and I get out in the real world. My image becomes somehow distorted. I caught sight of my reflection walking past a plate glass window and saw what I was wearing and I thought, “Good Lord! What WAS I thinking?”

Perhaps it was the intense heat frying my brain cells on the long walk to the church from the parking lot. (Geez, could they have put that parking lot any farther from the front door!) Melting with each and every step I started feeling like warm Play-Doh being squeezed through a garlic press, as all of my excess body weight jiggled and stretched through the sleeves of my tank top.

The friction of my tree-trunk thighs rubbing together with each and every stride brought me one step closer to spontaneously combusting. My discomfort increased and was directly proportionate to the amount of sweat clinging to the folds of excess skin – that was displayed in a flesh-baring tank top and flowing flowery skirt.

For me the challenge was not to look in a mirror for the entire evening. Denial goes a long way as salve for my bruised ego, which had convinced me I looked completely retarded in my summer ensemble. Ignoring the call of Mother Nature and the pressure on my bladder worked as a powerful deterrent keeping me from the bathroom which was lined with full-length mirrors. Seeing my jiggly flesh oozing out of the sleeve holes of my tank top reflecting back at me was denial personified and an adventure in torture I’d rather skip. So I held it - no bathroom break for me.

I survived the evening and made it home in one puddle of melting sweaty oozing jiggling flesh. When I walked through the door, my husband kissed me hello and gave me that suggestive look and told me, “Man, you look hot!”

Of course I knew what he meant, but it’s that compliment thing and those simple words of thank-you that cannot be forced passed my disbelieving lips. Choking back the polite, requisite, thank-you, honey, I responded with, “Of course I look hot. It’s 187° degrees outside!”

Denial … the multi-purpose dysfunction, works in so many situations.

Heat, ma’am! It was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones. ~Sydney Smith, Lady Holland’s Memoir

4 For the LORD has told me this: “I will watch quietly from my dwelling place—as quietly as the heat rises on a summer day, or as the morning dew forms during the harvest.” Isaiah 18:4 (NLT)

PRAYER FOR TODAY: Lord, thank you for life’s blessings, even the heat of a Phoenix summer day which reminds me that you are in control. Help me not give in to whining and complaining and always keep my cool in even the midst of this long hot summer. I love you and thank you for the pleasure of serving you. Continue to watch over me and direct my steps. I ask all these things in your name, Lord Jesus. Amen.