My brother is on the cover of Men’s Health this month. Well, not exactly, of course, but they look alike enough that friends are calling.
I wanted a sister and when my brother was born I asked them to send him back. We fought a lot. My mom basically ignored it. She wouldn’t hear our petty arguments and jealousies, except when I purposely made my brother cry by saying mean things to him. He would cry; Mom would call out, “Malakoa” angrily and I would respond, “I didn’t touch him!” What a jerk I was. Luckily we made it to adulthood relatively unscathed. Now we are one of each other’s best friends and know we can bounce things off each other that no one else could understand. “Is mom being crazy?” “Are these shoes out of style?” and before we both married, “Well… what do you think?”
But back to his beauty. What ever your opinion about Tom Cruise is fine, I don’t care, but he’s known to be hot, and when my brother was young everyone said he looked just like him. Devastating. He curled a little fet-lock in to the front of his hair every morning. I thought it was bizarre. I never knew how to take care of myself until I was in my late twenties. Some how it came easily to him.
When he moved to L.A. to go to school, a man once asked him for an autograph, mistaken for either a guy from Dawson’s Creek or 90210. When we went out people stared at us, trying to figure out exactly who he was. (My best guess, maybe they were staring at the toilet paper attached to my shoe.)
We know that “Charm is deceitful, beauty is vain” Surprisingly, this didn’t puff my brother up like it would someone else. My grandmother was also a great beauty. She looked like Gloria Swanson when she was younger, and says she had a better body than the waitresses at Hooters. (I did not request that information). As she got older and looked more like a grandma than a movie star she took it hard. My brother didn’t take too much stock in it because he didn’t want that to happen to him.
The second part of the verse is this: But a woman who fears the Lord shall be praised. I am not the kind of girl you’d point out as being ugly, but am more “cute” than “beautiful”. That’s fine with me for now. But in all those wishes for a sister, I never thought about what that would mean if she were born this great beauty and I was born myself. I was eighteen before I realized that would be so. If I think about it, when I went to concerts where my brother (did I mention he’s a musician?) played there was a look of letdown when I wasn’t Cindy Crawford. I honestly didn’t think too much about it, but I know if I had a sister like that, whoa! I couldn’t stand dealing with that.
Which brings us to the next question: Am I a woman who fears the Lord? I honestly hope so, but can’t say for sure. Maybe Mr. Malakoa or some of my Bible study cohorts could tell you better than I. I can be charming, but I try to be more open than charming. I don’t think transparency goes with charm and I make every effort to be transparent. I think before I became a Christian I was quite charming, if I remember correctly. I used it to get whatever I wanted. I try not to do so now, but it is so effective! And it is deceitful. Without saying a word, sometimes, I promise things that I have no intention to deliver.
So that’s me for today. The moral of all this is to be balanced in self-assessments so the second half of your life is a huge disappointment, and don’t be a jerk like I was (am.) Not great writing today, but we’ll get back to ‘normal’ (hah ahah ahahahah) later this week.