I took a little part time job working in a department store where I love to shop in an effort to save some money. Since I was working a part time job though, I figured it should be somewhere I would get a discount.
Normally, I work in the children's department or home. Either is fine. I love folding all the little kids clothes and thinking about who I can buy clearance items for. (Which defeats my goal of saving money working part time but you gotta live...right?)
I never dreamed when I accepted the job that I would be forced to work all night in the dreaded department of intimates.
There are SO many different types of bras! I've learned a lot I never wanted to know.
There are strapless adhesive bras, convertible plunge bras, minimizers, maximizers, undercover slimming bras, extra coverage, smoothing, body caress underwire bras, ultimate lift and support bras, natural boost push-up bras, ultra light lace with lift spacer bras and 'This is NOT a Bra' bras ... to name just a few!
It's overwhelming. I'm not even going to talk about the panties I've seen. It would be a whole other blog post!
I hate the fitting room. People try on bras, pull everything off the hangers and leave them laying all over the dressing room floor.
When I see my name on the schedule and it says Intimates underneath...I sigh. I dread it. I don't like that department. I don't want to answer all the questions about bras and undergarments that customers expect me to know the answers to and I'm completely clueless.
About twice a night, someone pushes the customer service button. A computerized female voice announces over a loudspeaker, "Intimates, please ... Intimate ..."
I groan and slowly making my way over to help.
Someone is waiting for me to assist them, "Do you have a Triple G in this style? Do you sell hosiery?"
Hosiery? Do you mean ... pantyhose?
How did I end up in this department? Why am I being forced to learn about intimates? I have to admit that it is good exercise. I can spend fifteen minutes walking around with one bra trying to figure out which rack it goes back on.
Heaven help me when I get a call and a customer is questioning a price. I must have looked frazzled the last time it happened because as I made my way to the front toting a bra from the clearance rack to confirm a price, the manager saw me walk by and asked, "Are you okay, Melinda?"
"I'm surviving ..." I answered then he went on to offer the names of a couple of co-workers who were more familiar with the department that I could ask for help if I needed it. (I heard he won't step foot into the intimates department. You didn't hear that from me, though.) Tee Hee
As with pretty much everything in my life, God used this experience to remind me about Him.
"Intimates please ... Intimates ..." I hear Him speak softly to me instead of the computerized female voice calling me over the loud speaker.
This is what He wants from His children.
But as with the awkwardness I feel working in this dreaded department, it can also be awkward being completely intimate with God.
Like the many different items we buy to make our bodies appear better looking than they really are, I also want to hide my imperfections before God. Using everything imaginable to make myself look better.
Allowing Him to see the part of me that I'd like to keep private and hidden underneath what I allow others to see is sometimes hard to do.
But God sees underneath that anyway. He already knows how I feel, what I think about, my attitudes and my true heart.
O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. Psalms 139:1