So. I attend a Bible study once a week, and every year our last meeting is a brunch, where ladies share what the study has meant to them. Each small group has a table, and is responsible for decorating it with a *theme*.
Usually, THEME is meant to imply something to do with centerpieces and flowers and prettiness, along the lines of "God grows joy in my garden" or "The Holy Spirit is a flower, watered by scripture" or "Jesus delights in fine china" or "Tulle is like the clouds of heaven" or whatever. Semi-kidding, it wasn't that bad. But you get the idea.
Generally speaking, I have yet to see anyone rock a dark and *slightly* morbid theme. The UGLY.
Until yesterday.
Instead of decorating with flowers and linens, our group decided to just re-enact the Book of Esther. Massive kingdom. Jewish queen. Evil plot. Bad guy impaled and hung on a 75-foot device. UGLY.
And we went for a *literal* interpretation:
(Notice, not even a tablecloth. Wouldn't have been historically accurate.
Just kidding, we forgot.)
BFF Becky built the hanging device (and painted it, you know, to make it *cute*), another gal brought the Ken doll, discreetly covered because he was smiling and that just seemed wrong (note: only his actual joy seemed inappropriate, not ANY OTHER element of this activity. Just to be clear). I contributed my kid's play castle AND a set of Christmas lights, to give it that ol' razzle-dazzle--but sadly, my extension cord was 50 feet too short to truly light it up, yo. Boo.
And that, folks, is how you rock a biblical theme as a slightly-out-of-proportion centerpiece.
You're welcome.


3 comments:
Umm. You forgot to mention that all the other ladies circled our table. Possibly in disgust but I like to think they were in pure awe!
This makes me happy in SO MANY WAYS. Ken dolls have a strange home in Christianity, I loaned out our Malaysian/African American Ken doll whose head kept popping off to a friend as a prop for a Christian retreat talk and he never came back. Maybe rejoicing in Heaven with his head secured?
Ha! I can only imagine some of those dear women looking at the table muttering things like "Oh my!"
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