Twin fawns: Thank you, God

Sometimes I think God messes with me.

Like yesterday.

I went to Mass and sat in my usual place.

I read the readings.

I always do that before Mass. That way I can focus on the lectors who read the readings later on.

I like to hear how they interpret the words.

I like to hear their voices.

Sometimes it helps me see the words in a different way.

Sometimes it just helps the words to sink in.

“God so loved the world …”

Then the girl came in.

The first things I noticed were here breasts.

To steal from the Bible: Her breasts were like twin fawns.

Well-developed fawns.

She was wearing a dark blue top, long sleeved, covering her to her neck.

It was not skin tight, but tight enough to display those breasts to advantage.

The rest of her completed the effect.

18 or so. Slender

Dark hair brushed back and over the top, held in place by multiple bobby pins.

Hair if set free that would have brushed down over her shoulders.

Full lips with the hint of a smile. A nose that curled up ever-so-slightly at the tip.

Hazel eyes.

The kind of beauty that can make men dream.

She sat down.

Directly in my view of the altar.

The church was crowded. Mass was beginning.

No where else for me to go.

Normally I try not to keep looking at women like this.

I try to practice what a seminarian friend of mine used to call, ”discipline of the eyes.”

Look elsewhere.

To avoid thinking in ways I shouldn’t.

I don’t always succeed.

With her in direct line of my view of the altar, I had little choice.

I had to look in her direction.

At some parts of the Mass I could close my eyes.

Other times I just tried to focus beyond her.

But my eyes kept changing focus.

Then came the sign of peace.

She stood, turned, greeted the person next to her.

Standing in profile.

And then she turned to the person directly in front of me.

Giving me a full frontal view.

Twins fawns.

Communion took her out of my view.

When I returned to my seat, she was praying.

I did so, too.

As soon as the Mass ended, I left.

But I thought about her as I drove home.

Was she a test?

Was she God’s way to say, “See, without me you’d have to deal with this on your own, and you know your record in that regard?”

See, you can’t let it go.

You can’t let her go.

You never grew up.

I know people who would just say she is one of God’s gifts of beauty to be appreciated.

Like palm tree swaying in a tropic breeze.

Or a waterfall filling the air with its roar and a mist.

Or snow-capped mountains.

Mountains again.

Those people would say that the most important thing is the beauty of God’s life in her.

The beauty of her soul that transcends her physical appearance.

Appreciate the God in her.

Amen.

So I say thank you God for that vision of beauty.

But next time, could you have her sit somewhere else?