Journey to the Renaissance Fair

 

It was that time of year again. My husband and I take an annual pilgrimage to the Renaissance Fair in Kansas City. It is always a blast to dress up in costumes and walk back in time to dirt roads, jousting, turkey legs, and aristocracy. Kyle and I gathered our costumes and prepared to escape for the weekend. This time we added my youngest son along for the ride. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, other than the extremely long line to get into you ladies privy (bathroom). As the crowds crawled past the thousands, I trekked from one side of the dusty park to the other, desperately looking for ladies' accommodations. After an hour and a half and at least two miles of walking covered, I found success. When we left the grounds, I was relieved to enter bathroom accommodations that didn't involve a marathon and a Black Friday kind of line, that is until we visited a bathroom on the way home. Once we were within a couple of hours from home, we realized the sodas had taken effect. We pulled into the closest place we could find. It was a cheese shop. I told my husband we needed to buy something if we were going to use their facilities, so we matched in, and I started my quick browsing. This is when my husband walked up and told me that the bathroom was in the building next door. We are already doing the potty dance, so we leave the store and look at the building with the restrooms. It was a timeshare building. I was too paranoid that they would pressure us into buying a timeshare in exchange for the potty. At this point, I might have even agreed. So we decided against timeshares and found a gas station. I took advantage of the facilities and bought a drink out of politeness, which started the process all over again. Don't ask me about almost getting myself locked into the stall of the next bathroom stop we visited. As I panicked at the possibility of having to drop like a snake and crawl under the stall on the nasty floor, I was able to channel one last burst of energy and shoulder the door open. This brings me to my question. Do you feel like you have to buy something if you use someone's bathroom? I'll admit, it seemed counterintuitive to use the restroom, only to buy a drink, which would make me need to use the restroom again. As we drove home, my husband and I discussed how we do this spiritually. We ask God to relieve our burdens at the altar, only to go right back to the same situation. It's like washing a car, but then going right back out on the dirt road by the car wash. Until you change the environment around you, the same results happen. Want God to relieve your burden? Give Him your burden, then evaluate your environment around you and see if anything needs to change to help the burdens stay lifted. 

Have a great week high-heeled warriors!