Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

These Scriptures will be embedded in the story.

Boilerplate

I’m Harold Dykstra.  I’m retired, but I go to food bank distributions all over Tracy and talk to people that need someone who will listen to their story.  My time is well spent.  A police lieutenant suggested that I write down the conversations that I had with an angel.  I did not know she was an angel at the time.  The angel, for a little over a year, indwelled a life-sized posable action figure my children bought me, so that I would not be perceived as travelling alone.  And in a way, she was training me for what I do while talking to the needy.  She probed my heart to find out what I believed and how I express love for others.  She changed my life.

In her leaving, she said someone would come.  I had thought that was Jesus, in His second coming, but a new Babs, a little older, the model for the posable action figure arrived.  While I had no desire to start over with romance, Morrie helped her move in, thinking she was the other Babs who had returned.

This Week’s Question

Last week, Babs threw a birthday party for Joe Painter.

This week, Babs asked me to help her fold clothes.  Since she did her clothes and I did my clothes, I wondered what she had up her sleeve.  We live in the same house, but we only have one laundry room.  That has never been a problem, but Babs has wanted to spend more time with me.  I guess I can fold some clothes.

As I walked into the laundry room, she greeted me with a smile.  “Good!  I was thinking you would come up with an excuse to miss out on the fun.”

I joked, “No, Babs, I am on my best behavior until the wedding.  Once I put a ring on your finger, all bets are off.  I can slip out the back door and go to the bar with my drinking buddies.”

Babs faked a laugh, “Ha. Ha! You do not visit bars.  You do not have drinking buddies.  And the only time you ever slip out the back door is to go to your lounge chair and pretend to watch the sunset.  It is pretend in that you have your eyes closed.  We may live on separate floors of this domicile, but I keep tabs on such things.”

I asked, “What is this about both of us folding clothes?  I have mine and you have yours.  We may have one laundry room, but we each have our own hamper.”

Babs scrunched her nose, “I kind of raided your laundry hamper.  This load is a full load for once.  I am tired of us wasting water on half loads.  You do realize that we are going to be husband and wife in two months and three days, do you not?”

I shrugged, “It slipped my mind, Babs.”

Babs looked at me with a look of terror. “Our marriage has slipped your mind?  Do I have to call the whole thing off?”

I groaned, “No, Babs, not knowing the exact time down to the second is what slipped my mind.  We are almost to the point where I won’t have to use any math to figure it out.”

Babs moaned, “But I gave you a carefully printed calendar so that you could color in the days that have passed.  And it gives the number of remaining days in the daily block.  If you had an artistic bone in your body, you would be doodling all over that thing.  Did you stick it in a desk drawer?”

I rolled my eyes, “You know that my office is a few boxes in the dining room, and I am basically using the TV dinner stand for my laptop.  I have no drawer to put the calendar.  The calendar is in a shallow box that I use for my In box.  I at least look at it daily.  But you have been having so many dinners in the dining room that I got tired of moving the computer.”

Babs came over and kissed my left hand.  “You poor dear, I see the fingers withering away already!  Will you even survive long enough for us to get married?  You know, I am invested in this thing for the Social Security benefits.  You better not cheat me out of those.”

I sighed, “And I thought you loved me for my rapier wit.”

Babs laughed, “Okay, Social security and the wit thing.  But getting to the laundry folding.  I want you to teach me how to fold your laundry and I want to teach you how to fold mine.”

I swallowed hard, “You mean I must touch your undies?  We are not going to be married for another two months and three days.  Your undies may overpower my self-control, and I may start having impure thoughts!”

Babs giggled, “A minute ago, you had no idea how close the wedding is.  Now you are rattling off that time frame like a champ.  And if you have any impure thoughts, I am right here!  We can have some innocent play time.  We don’t have to get naked, but I am disappointed that we have been engaged for over four months and you have yet to unhook my bra or slip a hand where it is not supposed to go.”

“Babs,” I chided, “We said we were saving that until after we are married.”

Babs snickered, “I agreed to no naughty things that could get you pregnant.  A little roaming hands?  That’s different.  I have to see if you are really interested in that kind of thing.”

I walked in close and slid my hand around her back where the bra hooks were located.

Babs gasped, “Harold, stop that!  I’m a lady.”  Then she picked up a pair of my boxer briefs.  “How do I fold these?”

I said, “If you bought any underwear for me, you would know.  A triple fold with the front facing up and the legs folded behind.  Do not fold them any further.  The drawer is deep enough to put them in full length.  The T-shirts are the same way, but one fold with the bottom behind the crew neck.  If you buy me any, I am careful with a special boxer brief, but I only go for crew neck T-shirts.  My Dad loved the V-neck, but I always felt strange when wearing them.  Socks, lay the socks on top of each other and then fold the socks inside one of the two.  Make it look like the croquettes that I make.”

Babs said, “You have not made them in a while, and you have not touched my underwear.  Fold one cup of the bra inside the other and then fold the straps underneath.”

I picked up a very tiny, lacy piece of cloth, “And what is this?”

Babs laughed, “Those are my underpants, Big Boy.”

I shook them at her.  “For one thing, there is no way to fold this tiny of a piece of cloth.  And this little lace would not cover a… umm a… umm mouse.”

Babs came over and hugged me. “I’m wearing a pair just like those.  You wanna see how well it covers the important things?”  She batted her eyelashes.

I swallowed hard.  I stammered, “First Timothy 2:9-10 states, ‘I also want the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves, not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God.’  I hope you are wearing something more substantial on our wedding day.”  Then I gasped, “We are doing our swing dance.  You cannot be thinking of showing everybody your altogether at the reception!”

Babs huffed, “I am way ahead of you.  I will definitely be wearing something like that at the wedding because I want you to be taking it off later that night.  But because of the dancing and maybe hiking up my skirt to remove the garter for the garter toss, I will be wearing short shorts.  People will see plenty of leg, but the naughty bits will be modestly covered.  Don’t tell me.  Your wife wore grannie panties.”

I said firmly, “From the day she was potty trained until the day she died.”

She hugged me again.  “But you know what I used to do.  I got so used to a photo from behind that looked like I was wearing nothing.  I simply got used to it.  But I wore nothing but grannie panties at the assisted living home.  And I chaffed.  Trust me.  You do not want me uncomfortable down there on our wedding night.  What else does the Bible say about me having modest underwear that no one except you will ever see?”

I read 1 Peter 3:1-6, “Wives, in the same way submit yourselves to your own husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives. Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to adorn themselves. They submitted themselves to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her lord. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear.”

Babs smiled, “I guess it is too late to cancel the wedding dress, but if I offend you by showing some cleavage and a dress that accentuates my curves, you can get a few feed sacks and throw them over me.  When I stripped to my undies with the designer and Gwen Quinn, they asked if I was lying about my age to not make you feel like you were robbing the cradle.  I had to argue with both of them that I wanted to dance in the dress without the fear of popping out.  The designer assured me nothing would pop out.”

I sighed, “I sure hope not.  My first look I hope is after I carry you across the threshold.”

Babs squeezed my arm, “Can you handle that, Big Boy?”

I huffed, “I have been working out.  And you walk a lot every day.  I do not see you gaining a lot of weight in the next two months.”

Babs snickered, “But it will be winter, and I might pack on the pounds in those last three days.  But I think Romans 12:1 applies to that.  ’Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.’  So, I will keep my body this same size for the glory of God, but also to keep you from slipping a disc trying to get me over the threshold.  I am concerned about you, Harold.”

I started examining her undies closely.

Babs gasped, “What are you doing with my undies?”

I huffed, “You say this covers the important things, but I doubt if it would cover my nose!”

Babs said, “Do not hang my undies on your nose.  You know what Deuteronomy 22:5 says, ‘A woman must not wear men’s clothing, nor a man wear women’s clothing, for the Lord your God detests anyone who does this.’”

I asked, “Does that verse pertain to me wearing your skimpies on my nose?”

Bab’s laughed and threw her arms around me.  “You and I are going to have so much fun after we are married.  I am going to teach you things that you never learned in a textbook, Big Boy.”

I asked, “Why do you keep calling me Big Boy?  I am old.  And things shrink.”

Babs giggled. “I have my secrets.  That will be taken care of at the appropriate time.  It’s an old family recipe.”

I asked, “You have not been talking to Jochebed over at Lily the Pink have you?”

Babs smiled, “No, my formula works faster and does not linger for very long.  You can be modest before hand and afterwards, but you need not worry about being too old to perform.  Okay, Big Boy?”

I laughed and for a little while we forgot about folding clothes.  We hugged and kissed, and I do not know how it happened, but Babs undies were hanging from her glasses.  It covered her nose, but then she has such a cute small nose.

Credits

All these conversations remind me of my conversations with my wife.  We would talk about anything and everything.  And most of the time, it sounded like a discussion in a Sunday school class.

I rarely folded my wife’s undies, but she never complained if I did it wrong.  Near the end, I folded everything.  Besides, after she shuffled everything in the drawer to find the right style (all grannie panties, but different cuts) and the right color…  Everything was sort of unfolded by that point.

Soli Deo Gloria.  Only to God be the Glory.