Good Friday In Jail
I don't realize how awkward my facial hair is until I put on some nice clothes but forget to shave. Then I look like a homeless person who stumbled upon a bag of moderately-used semi-formalwear, all scruff and argyle. And this is how I dolled myself up to sing at my church's Good Friday service this morning. Now please realize, I never dress up for church. Never have, never much saw the need to. I don't mean any disrespect by it, no latent irreverence toward authority, I simply don't care much about my clothes or appearance. In fact, growing up without money for my richer friends' fancy jackets, backpacks and light up sport shoes made me pretty Zen about the whole style thing. Instead of dressing for fashion I dress for comfort. Basketball shorts, t-shirts, sandals (even in February), easy. Plus, I like to think I walk with God as much outside the church as in, so I never felt a need to gussy up for the in-house stuff. It's different when I'm up fr...