A Wrinkle in Time at Arrowhead Mall: All that Glitters is not Gold

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Oro Gold.  Sounds like one really big brick of wholegrain bread at first. Alluring toward ingestible.  Orowheat?….NO.  It is not bread or the staff of life that I want to chew on. Temptation.  At times it is delicious to the taste and very desirable.

Is it worth its weight in gold? Youth? Oro Gold is the stuff of HIGH END Aestheticians. Is Oro Gold a miracle product, or a skin care farce? Dr. Oz endorses it. I think, so what, but it is presented as a breakthrough face care system, with a European marketing feel, containing 24 k. gold and the fountain of youth that stays the hand of plastic sugeons. The sales associate said, “No neet for da knife-a,” in a thick Soviet accent. Aint no Doctor touching me anyway, any how,  I think.

The eye restoration serum was truly AMAZING and transformational.  It literally took me, in under six seconds of speed to acceleration in the cockpit of a sexy red Arizona sports car to the Nascar track.  It transported me from mundane, middle age 47, peek-a-boo Severous Snape, gray templed, with fan-brush crows feet and seasoned smile lines…. to walk the trot of a Hooter peacock.  I became a twenty-five year old, lovely tanned hard-body, posing on the sexy cover of Vogue.  Looking fabulous on an endcap of a Safeway supermarket, in a fantasy stance while youngsters sparred for candybars at the feet of desperate, tired houswives.  Um. Maybe not this.

Wow! The product was/is truly temporarily amazing! It took me places for sure just short of Literrotica.  Only a tiny bit of product made the cock crow and the clock turn back to a face I might have known in college. But I was a plain girl back then, fairly sister Christian deep in the heart of Texas toying with forbidden.  I couldn’t afford makeup then anymore than I want it all that much now. Well, maybe a little.  THIS product was unbelievable! But it was SO COSTLY in monetary and spiritual terms…..Truly corruptable!  I did want it….and I don’t do poker face well because I am typically sooo expresive!

A person could sell her soul to Satan for a pseudo fountain of youth. $5,000.00 for a kit that celebrities like Celina Gomez and Justin Beiber consume like holy water, and gold leaves of toilet paper…..maybe….only to be tossed to the wayside for Hollywood Connection and other loud offensive big screens blaring in mall food courts. Ugh!!!! Makes me ill. This and $1 for 3 minutes of massage chair recliners banked outside the public restroom.  Humph, I thought. Such a purchase would wipe out my bank account and leave me soiled with lots of explaining to do to my husband.

Truth is, I did get reeled into listening to the tract.  I took a look at a product catalogue, even turned pages of a store locator pamphlet which handily listed a location in Rome, Italy. “I will look next summer,” I said. Meanwhile, the silvery tongued young man slithered on, working a scales and sales pitch like the Father of All Lies, trying every tactic. I called him on this a few times, and had no problem referring to him as the Devil to his face. He only smiled.  He was so smooth, like the way my forearm felt after he exfoliated and mosturized it with Xerxes’ blessing.

Nothing I said slowed him down much. My smile only seemed to make matters worse.  It spurred him on all the more commited to making the conquest. Over and over he redirected and persisted. Then thankfully Delanie’s phone rang.  It was Chica telling us to meet her outside the movie theater entrance.  Phew!  This slowed momentum long enough to throw cold water on my face. A Mister mister.

Finally, I took control and told the young many who was likely the same age as my missionary son, “I have to go!”  He continued to motion me to the cash register, saying, “I am the only sales person left.  I will give you a deal.  It will be our “little secret.”  Red flag!

I testified of my trip plans to Italy in 2015, and of the reality that there was no way in HELL  that I would be purchasing the product.  (This was done kindly, mind you…) There was NO WAY short of Aslan’s return and the Utero abrupto instant growth of a miraculous, healing apple tree stemming from what I envisioned was a Heaven breaking bad through Hell beneath the store. The Godly tree of life, with silver fruit, reaching up from the glistening white tile floor of a swanky Phoenix mall (with all the special computer generated efffects including Dolby surround sound!)

At this time I kind of snapped back to reality, conscious of what was transpiring, and turned FOCUS to the goal of saving for my Italy trip, not squandering the balance away.  I thought of Steve Carrell pumping gas, The Life of Dan, and Angel and Middle’s college fund. I thought of Donavon and Samantha’s future wedding.  I thought but I mostly moved quickly away.  This is the path of egress away from sin.

All of this running away got me sweaty and thinking about EYES, and I nearly teared up in the convection oven of outside. Restoring with more spiritual eyes is crucial to seeing what is most important in this short precarious life.  The VAIN things of the world are really NOT what is most important.  I knew I had done the right thing in bolting.

What of age!? What of wrinkles? I think……What will I do with my wrinkle in time? Arizona Shine! I was kind of proud of my default self control in that moment. I was amazed that I had walked away……leaving the boy with regrets at the cash register… alone, greedy and ambitious. Desperate to sell the product to even the humblest, housewife with a secret obsession story.

I thought of Simon Sinek’s theory of the Golden Circle.  Of how that strategy of leadership influences works from the inside out. I wonder if this technique can work toward good works or if it is just another cleverly packaged scam.  I think of how Jesus works, and how personal creation and heart turning works…..from the inside out.  I think of what is beautiful. I think of what I should look for in people around me.  How I should be slow to judge, speak, strike. Quicker to understand….to be understood.  Inside things are truly beautiful.  They can also be corrupt in shades of gray, fading to neverlasting.

I think it is time to go home.  I have had enough high pressure mauling at the mall for one day….and for a summer, maybe. At any rate, I have depleated my vacation budget.  Whatever that means.  Beautiful or not, the only eyes that should really matter are His and how I am found in them.

 

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About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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