In Response to Midge Brontë

I was thinking about Midge Brontë's whiny blog post from yesterday and two things occurred to me. The first was that it's pretty hilarious that after my second post in which I vowed to be completely myself, I immediately plunged into pretending to be different people.  I guess, though, this was the whole point of the Pretend Boyfriend post  - to let you know right up front how goofy things might get in here, to escort you right into the spooky, cobwebby, closed-off wing of the mansion, where I've locked up my crazy relative...
                              except it's ME!

"You may go anywhere on the estate grounds
but you must never, under any circumstances,
enter the north wing."

In that same vein, I was wondering how in the world will that one person who reads my blog know when I'm being serious and when I'm joking?  Am I supposed to color code the text?

orange - totally true

pink - that happened to me

green - that happened to me but I'm pretending it happened to someone else.

blue - that happened but I'm exaggerating for comic effect

gold - never, ever happened

purple - I made that up just now but I wish it would happen

red - sarcasm alert


Hee-heeee!  Just kidding.  Obviously, that is silly and unnecessary. Let's get back to Midge Brontë.  



The second thing that occurred to me was that, strangely enough, Midge reminds me of myself. Her dental woes happen to make a great metaphor for my own stumbly walk with God.  There have been times that I have ignored God's commandments on how to live life and have chosen to go my own way. Just like Midge, I ended up suffering the natural consequences of my actions.  Of course, as explained in my first blog entry, those stories, the unmentionables, will stay tucked away in the underwear drawer. 

However, those unpleasant experiences were valuable because they taught me that God's requirements are not intended to ruin our good times nor are they criteria for racking up brownie points or getting into heaven. Instead, they are meant to make our lives better, happier, safer, etc.  For example, God knows that if I covet my neighbor's riding lawnmower, I'm eventually going to go broke trying to keep up or I'm going to turn into the bitter neighborhood jerk who never gets invited to the block party barbecue.  

When the dental hygienist told Midge, "No drinking through a straw," she wasn't trying to ruin Midge's vacation by denying her the pleasure of a diet soda. The hygienist was trying to protect Miss B. from causing herself avoidable skull-searing pain. Likewise, when God says, "I'm serious - no gossiping, no adultery, no coveting," He's not trying to limit our enjoyment of life.  He's trying to protect us from causing ourselves and certainly others heart-searing pain.

While I was writing this, I asked a friend to read it to make sure I wasn't making up stuff up as far as bible doctrine. She pointed out that in John 14:15, Jesus says, "If you love me, keep my commandments," and so our motivation in following God's commandments should be out of love for Him rather than to avoid negative consequences.  

For me, these two motivating factors, love for God and the desire to avoid any additional unnecessary pain, came together years ago in one explosive realization that...well, that might make another decent blog post, now that I think about it.

So for now I'll advise Miss Brontë to trust her dentist and follow his directions in the future.  Meanwhile, I'm going to do my best to keep her unnecessary suffering in mind the next time I'm tempted to deliberately ignore one of God's commandments for a well-lived life. 

Diabolical Dentistry

Guest Blogger: 
Midge Brontë - Anne, Emily and Charlotte's whiny half-sister 

Today The Crooked Clothesline welcomes Midge Brontë, little-known Victorian whiner and family embarrassment.

Miss Brontë, lamenting

It was the first day of a brief respite from my lowly position as an ill-used governess to several spoilt and unruly children. While I prepared to pay a call to a nearby dental office, the sky donned a deceitfully bright countenance. During my visit, the dentist fiendishly wrested a stubborn wisdom tooth from my lower jaw. Once the devil had done with me, I endeavored to then enjoy the remainder of my much-anticipated freedom. Ere long, the sky flung off her cheerful mask and darkened the heathered moors with sullen storm clouds.

Two days into my convalescence, the gaping hole in my gum, the size of all England, began to afflict me with the torments of hell.
Dry Socket is the disgusting name given to this perverse malady. The ignoble title doubles my suffering!  I have despaired of eating normal food and have been driven to absolute desperation by the inconvenience!  With subdued spirit, I sup on yogurt or soup.  My only solace is that I can manage to wedge spoonfuls of ice cream between my jaws.  

My hopes of productivity and diversion during this fortnight have been most cruelly murdered!  I blame the dental hygienist for not pressing upon me more ardently the importance of NOT sucking on a straw. Had I supposed she was serious, I should not have ordered a large Diet Dr. Pepper at the Sonic drive-thru window a mere two days after the savagery performed upon me.

Awesome Victorian label used courtesy of:
http://bumblebutton.blogspot.com/2011/07/victorian-rose-clip-art-for-labels-and.html  


Note from the Administrator: The views Miss Brontë expresses here are her own and do not necessarily reflect those of The Crooked Clothesline.  In fact, I happen to know that the staff members of the dental office Midge mentioned are very professional, gentle and kind. They also give very thorough instructions.  I think the lesson Miss Brontë needs to learn is, "Follow directions!"