It seemed like a normal Sunday morning except I got up a little later than usual. I slept badly last night because I have a toothache, so my husband let me sleep in. When I woke up at 7:20am I pondered sleeping a little later but then decided that going to Mass this morning would be decidedly easier than in the late afternoon.
So I got up and got in the shower. I washed, dressed, moisturized my face, and then realized my hair was having a bad day of its own. I put it up in a bun. Done. Then I went to fuss with the kids. Jay had fed most of them breakfast already but then he had to leave early for choir. I sent the kids scurrying this way and that to get dressed and find shoes while I sat down for a peaceful cup of coffee.
Next I herded the girls into the bathroom to do their hair. Then I sent them in search of shoes. Again. I brushed my teeth. After one minor shoe related melt-down, we were off to church, only a few minutes past our usual extra early time. And I thought, That wasn’t so bad! I wished I had more time to sit with my thoughts in the morning like I usually do (I’m a slow starter.) but I could make time for that later in the day.
We arrived at church and I took everyone to the bathroom, washed their hands, and let everyone push the button on the hand dryer. That is always super important. Then we made our way to our seats and tried to settle in as best we could. The kids were a little extra squirrelly today, but nothing out of control. They were still enough for me to read the readings and listen to the homily, which is better than I expected.
The second reading today was a frustrating one for me. It was Romans 8:9, 11-13 and it talked about living in the Spirit and not the flesh. I pondered my weak willpower and how I would love to be able to step beyond the urgings of the flesh. Then maybe I could lose some weight. So spiritual, right? It did make me think a lot about how to set those desires aside and do the right thing instead of the easy thing, and how I needed to work on dying to self; I always seem to come back to that theme. I thought again about my weak and broken will, and wondered about how to get the help I need, moment by moment, from Jesus. But that is another post for another day.
Mass continued, we went up and some of us received the Eucharist. This will help, I thought. But then I still found myself looking at the people who walked by while I was kneeling and supposed to be praying. I looked at their faces, their clothes, their toe-nail polish. Time to refocus. Unconsciously I brought my hands up to physically close my eyes. I was startled by what I found there.
I was not wearing makeup.
There I was, at Mass (the TV Mass, no less!), supposedly dressed up, and I had completely forgotten to put makeup on. How did this happen? I had been in front of the mirror several times that morning: brushing my teeth, doing the girls’ hair, helping the kids wash their hands… How had I not noticed?
I remembered that in the car before church I thought about putting on some lipstick, but when I reached in my purse I grabbed the tylenol instead (toothache!) and didn’t fuss with finding some lip gloss.
Part of me realized that maybe this was a good thing, that during the course of the morning I had set myself aside so well that I didn’t even feel deprived. My emotional response to this was not what I expected it would be. I felt alarmed and embarrassed. I wanted to dart out of the church right away, but Mass was nearly over so that wouldn’t help. Is my mind slipping? Is that how I forgot? No, I don’t think so. I took care of all the important things, my body was clean, my clothes were nice, my teeth were brushed, my hair was done, my vitamins were taken.
It not like I never go in public without makeup. I pick up the kids from school or run to the store without makeup sometimes. I wear makeup less often in the summer because I’m usually just a few hours away from a dip in the pool. It’s just… I was supposed to be dressed up for Mass. I was supposed to look pulled together. Without makeup on I tend to look tired and faded, not pulled together and ready for anything. When I am wearing makeup people say things like, “You don’t look like you have nine children!” Without makeup, I guess I look like I do, in fact, have nine children.
I felt humbled.
I didn’t think humble was supposed to be so uncomfortable. But I guess the truly humble part of my morning was over once I realized that I had left my self image behind for a little while. My Self came rushing back upon me, chastising me for imperfection. I confess that I didn’t stay around to chat after Mass like I usually would. I had had enough humility for one day.
I am sharing this not to say that wearing makeup is vain or to congratulate myself on a few moments of setting my self aside. I still love makeup and I enjoy that it makes me feel more confident. I am sharing this because for one moment my eyes left my Self and I didn’t even try to do it. I tasted the tiniest sip of not being “of the flesh,” the very thing I had been fussing about not being able to do. It was not of my own doing and I would not have chosen it, but I was gifted with this moment anyway.
Sometimes we are given the gift of stumbling into grace to remind us that it is not by our own will that we are changed to be who He made us to be.
Brothers and sisters:
You are not in the flesh; on the contrary, you are in the spirit,
if only the Spirit of God dwells in you. (Rom 8:9)
I’m glad you were able to see it as a moment of grace. I looked at you several times during mass and did notice you didn’t have any makeup on. But I know I’m your husband and you’re always beautiful to me, with our without makeup.