| Sunny Side Up Dec. 6, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson The black sock affair The walls of a parsonage, so imagine some, must echo with spirited spiritual discussions. Sometimes they do. But in our home the Preacher and I also explore, with gusto, other things. Foundational topics critical to the daily life of saints. Socks, for one. The Preacher generally wears dark socks with his dark pants. But recently I noticed a flash of white under his black jeans. I noticed it again the next day, and the one following that. "Honey," I said, finally, "why have you been wearing white socks with your dark jeans lately?" He shrugged. "Because it looks nice." "No, it doesn't. It looks like you have white socks!" I said. "Men's socks aren't supposed to be noticed. When you wear black pants, you wear black socks." The good pastor just laughed and marched his black-shoed, white-socked, black-jeaned legs confidently ahead, like a walking Oreo cookie. The next Sunday as we left for church, I realized I hadn't assessed the situation on the sock front. "What color are your socks today?" I said, on our way out the door. He stood on the top step, offered one leg for inspection, then withdrew it immediately. "No way," I said, "I want to see." Grinning, he hiked up both pant legs barely enough for me to note that with his black suit, he was indeed wearing black socks. "Whew!" I said. "Whew!" he mimicked. "What if I'd been wearing one black and one blue? That'd be worse than white." "No." I said, "At least you'd have it half right. White would have been completely wrong." He shook his head, grinned, and climbed in the car. Halfway down the street he tapped the steering wheel cover (black and white, co-incidentally) twice, and reopened the Great Sock Debate. "When I buried Elgin McFadden," he began determinedly, "I wore RED socks. Afterwards, his son-in-law said that he admired my socks. 'Most ministers,' he told me, 'try too hard to be proper about everything. Your red socks show you have a sense of humor.' " Elgin McFadden died almost twenty years ago. I thought on the idea that he'd cherished that strange little memory so long. "Well, he was right. But you don't need to wear red socks to prove you have a sense of humor. Besides, I never knew about the red socks. Where were my eyes in those days?" More focused on helping our children find clean clothing each morning, I'll bet. And matching socks. We arrived at church just then; tabled the Great Sock Dialogue till later - and there will be a 'later'. I've just checked the Preacher's sock drawer. Guess what's on top? A pair of new white socks - with candy cane stripes. Jesus told his followers not to worry about clothes; that he'd provide. He does - sometimes through parents and spouses - who understand the importance of appropriately colored socks. The Preacher's getting black socks for Christmas this year. Respond Home |
 |