An Unlikely Outcome

Remember the old joke about the man who broke his arm? "Doc," he says, "am I going to be able to play the violin when this arm heals?" "Yes," answered the doctor. "Great!" answered the man. "I've wanted to play the violin since I was a little boy!" (Okay, my husband had never heard it either...and didn't even understand it, but I promise I read it when I was little.)

Anyway, I think I am guilty of hoping for a similar, unlikely outcome. I blame it on hats. And, watching too many episodes of "What Not to Wear." But, in my opinion, hats are classy. Sophisticated. Maybe even svelte. Definitely charming. I, on the other hand, am a "What Not to Wear-wannabe." But, somehow, in my world of logic, if I have to wear hats for an extended period of time, I am hopeful that I will come out having taken on their nature: Classy. Sophisticated. Svelte? Probably not--I think you have to be at least 5'8" to be svelte. But, maybe charming. "Charming" might maybe be in reach. If I'm lucky.

I must confess that I am embarrassed to admit this little hope. I know, and believe, that God looks at the heart. He adores a gentle and quiet spirit. However, I caught a look at myself in the Department store mirror the other day as I was chasing my 2-year old. Yikes! Frumpy. Ick.

I really would be a good "What Not to Wear" participant. Besides my overall "frumpiness," I have also recently lost about 40 pounds....and I still am wearing my old clothes. (A major "rule" breaker, but I am trying to be slow about replacing my clothing. It is easier on the budget and insures, in my mind, that I don't go gain all my weight back.) Plus, I would not argue. Well, I might possibly argue about the principle of my worth and value apart from my clothing, but I would not be one of those women with cleavage and rolls hanging out and admantly insist that I look "good."

And, wouldn't it be neat for them to do a "What Not to Wear--Breast Cancer Survivors" show? Of course, I would insist that they at least double-match my wardrobe fund and donate it to breast cancer research or treatment centers for women without insurance. But, wouldn't that be great? And wouldn't the look on Nick's face (the hair stylist) be priceless as he stares at my bald head? I guess he could re-style the wig (assuming I opt for one.)

But, alas, that, too, is probably unlikely. I am sure that in Hollywood time, my treatment will be done and my hair half grown back before they would get to me. Oh well!! Maybe my hope, however unlikely, will come to pass! God is a God of Miracles, and I guess my wardrobe would be a cinch. He is, after all, the Ultimate Designer.