Feeling Tied Down
A Sunday School Story
A couple of Sundays ago, I was getting ready for church. I did all of my usually things – shower, put on my shirt and pants, and even eat breakfast. As the time got closer to leaving, I went to my closet to get one of my ties. I opened the door, and the complaints came as soon as the light from the room hit the ties.
One tie whined that it was tired of being a tie; it wanted to be a sock. Another tie asserted that it wanted to be a shirt and represent the purity with which we are supposed to partake of the Sacrament. The third tie yawned and said that it just wanted to hang out on this Sabbath day; it would be happy to accompany me to church next week, but this week it really needed to rest.
With all the ties talking at once and time counting down before I had to leave for church, I decided to go without a tie. After all, there was no use in tying myself up in knots about the whole situation, and I could address the situation when I got home later that day.
Church went well with one exception – my lack of tie kept me from passing the Sacrament. So I wasn’t able to do what I enjoy doing and what I rarely get to do because I allowed my ties to talk me out of wearing them.
You would think that a tie would want to be worn, to fulfill its greatest potential. A tie cannot self actualize unless it is used for the reason that it was created. Of course, my ties were particularly stiff-necked that day. Why couldn’t it be a sock? Why couldn’t it be a shirt? What was wrong with just hanging out for the day?
Knowing that I couldn’t force my ties to be ties, I decided to try persuasion. Sock-tie was first on my list. We discussed it. I talked about how much work it would be to become a sock – stitches, folding, and cutting – really just like major surgery, and the end result would be one sock. I asked Sock-tie what good one sock was. It thought about it for a minute and finally said, “Sock puppet?” I shook my head and then asked if it really wanted to be a puppet. It said that maybe being a tie wasn’t so bad, and I was able to hang it back in the closet.
Then came Shirt-tie. I didn’t even know where to begin. So I started with the most obvious points. It would have to bleached and cut and sewn together with other ties. It would need to acquire buttonholes and buttons and then sleeves. There just wasn’t enough fabric there for Shirt-tie to become a shirt all by its self. I described the chemical processes involved in turning a dark colored tie into a white tie. The fabric would become brittle and holes would form like those in the moth-eaten blanket that disappeared the beginning of last winter. In short, no matter how much work I did for Shirt-tie, he could never be shirt.
Shirt-tie cried. I had shattered his dream, but there was no way for me to present a gentler truth. Later that evening, I came back to Shirt-tie and explained to him what a beautiful tie he was. He fulfilled his purpose with grace and dignity, and there was purpose in that. His feelings seemed to be assuaged after this… at least somewhat.
Hanging-Around-tie was the hardest one to deal with. He didn’t want to be anything. He thought he could hang around the hanger as well as he hung around my neck. It would just involve less work for him and me, and he would be fulfilling the purpose for which he was created. I tried to appeal to his vanity – telling him that no one would be able to see him and his beautiful colors hiding in the closet, but his apathy won out. I tried to appeal to his sense of duty, but there, too, he didn’t really care about helping me be prepared to serve the Sacrament. I even tried to appeal to his sense of teamwork – what would my suit be without the tie? He just insisted that he was fine being where he was.
So currently, two of my three ties are going to church. The third one is still trying to find his testimony.
One tie whined that it was tired of being a tie; it wanted to be a sock. Another tie asserted that it wanted to be a shirt and represent the purity with which we are supposed to partake of the Sacrament. The third tie yawned and said that it just wanted to hang out on this Sabbath day; it would be happy to accompany me to church next week, but this week it really needed to rest.
With all the ties talking at once and time counting down before I had to leave for church, I decided to go without a tie. After all, there was no use in tying myself up in knots about the whole situation, and I could address the situation when I got home later that day.
Church went well with one exception – my lack of tie kept me from passing the Sacrament. So I wasn’t able to do what I enjoy doing and what I rarely get to do because I allowed my ties to talk me out of wearing them.
You would think that a tie would want to be worn, to fulfill its greatest potential. A tie cannot self actualize unless it is used for the reason that it was created. Of course, my ties were particularly stiff-necked that day. Why couldn’t it be a sock? Why couldn’t it be a shirt? What was wrong with just hanging out for the day?
Knowing that I couldn’t force my ties to be ties, I decided to try persuasion. Sock-tie was first on my list. We discussed it. I talked about how much work it would be to become a sock – stitches, folding, and cutting – really just like major surgery, and the end result would be one sock. I asked Sock-tie what good one sock was. It thought about it for a minute and finally said, “Sock puppet?” I shook my head and then asked if it really wanted to be a puppet. It said that maybe being a tie wasn’t so bad, and I was able to hang it back in the closet.
Then came Shirt-tie. I didn’t even know where to begin. So I started with the most obvious points. It would have to bleached and cut and sewn together with other ties. It would need to acquire buttonholes and buttons and then sleeves. There just wasn’t enough fabric there for Shirt-tie to become a shirt all by its self. I described the chemical processes involved in turning a dark colored tie into a white tie. The fabric would become brittle and holes would form like those in the moth-eaten blanket that disappeared the beginning of last winter. In short, no matter how much work I did for Shirt-tie, he could never be shirt.
Shirt-tie cried. I had shattered his dream, but there was no way for me to present a gentler truth. Later that evening, I came back to Shirt-tie and explained to him what a beautiful tie he was. He fulfilled his purpose with grace and dignity, and there was purpose in that. His feelings seemed to be assuaged after this… at least somewhat.
Hanging-Around-tie was the hardest one to deal with. He didn’t want to be anything. He thought he could hang around the hanger as well as he hung around my neck. It would just involve less work for him and me, and he would be fulfilling the purpose for which he was created. I tried to appeal to his vanity – telling him that no one would be able to see him and his beautiful colors hiding in the closet, but his apathy won out. I tried to appeal to his sense of duty, but there, too, he didn’t really care about helping me be prepared to serve the Sacrament. I even tried to appeal to his sense of teamwork – what would my suit be without the tie? He just insisted that he was fine being where he was.
So currently, two of my three ties are going to church. The third one is still trying to find his testimony.