What's in the bag?

Went to a bridal shower for a niece last Saturday and contemplated the rituals women must enjoy or endure when we marry. Perhaps it depends on how you look at it or how much freedom you have to insist on this or that. It was held in a church fellowship hall. My niece was looking beautiful and hardly more than a day old, though I happen to know she was nervous. It’s hard to keep from it when everyone is lookin’ at you. Each gift must be greeted with smiles and thanksgiving even if it’s a crocheted toilet roll cover. My lively, beautiful sister sat beside her, repressing some sort of mischief as usual. I loved seeing my Mom who wanted to sit in the back row so we could yak - talk at length about trivial or boring subjects (to you maybe). There were four rows of folding chairs in a semi-circle in a room full of women (all ages) around the bride and the mothers. Beside them was a table loaded with gifts. But first. It’s been a long time since I played shower games – a feminine tradition I hoped had been lost to history. Unscramble common words from the wedding ceremony. Like: mogro. I didn’t win. You’d think otherwise, since I’m a boggle queen… Then there was the famous “What’s in your purse?” game. You got major points for things like a to-do list and tweezers. My mom almost won having both of those and a lot of other stuff, too. And then we guessed the number of jelly beans in a jar.

I totally perked up during the devotion when the lady suggested we learn to pray for our husbands using body parts as a guide. She included a scripture reference for each one. She began well with the head, moving on to the eyes and the ears. But right after the mouth, inexplicably, she dropped to the feet, and I was left curiously wondering what she did with all those major body parts left out of the list. I’ll bet I could find Bible references for every one of them. But…another time, maybe.