Disturbed

Yes. Usually I'm perturbed. This week I've been disturbed.

I watched Prime Time on Thursday night. I didn't even mean to.

I had been holding Baby Boy while everyone else was watching TV. When his mommy and daddy packed him up to go home, I stayed put. That's when Prime Time came on.

Really. I walked into the den to turn the TV off, but it just drew me in.

A report about polygamy. Just last week I had followed a link from a web site talking about that new TV show about polygamy. I even went to the sites linked there that were people ADVERTISING for new 'sister wives'.

So, I was curious. Curious in that way one gets when passing road kill and wondering, is that REALLY the intestines that bird is trying to fly off with? So you look closer, only to find out that yes, yes it is a bird trying to fly off with the intestines.

The report was fascinating. But I am still, days later, immensely disturbed by it.
You know, somethings are SO obviously wrong that one forgets that if someone is brought up a certain way the truth has an incredibly hard time sinking in.

That was just the FIRST segment.

When the 15 or so 'sister wives' stood around a piano looking just like a gathering of home school mom's I thought I was going to vomit.

They were singing this song that I remember from my childhood. My mom was a radio listener, and some program she listened to about families started with this song:

"There is beauty all around
When there's love at home
There is joy in every heart
When there's love at home."

Oh really. Give me a break. Beauty all around? When the 'husband' is screwing over a dozen women? And they are all supposedly fine with this?

But, then I understood something in a deeper way than I ever had before.

It really is possible for someone to be absolutely blinded by evil to the point that they actually believe it is benefiting them. Or, even in a sick twist of humility, benefiting someone else.

Bleeeeechhh. The whole thing stinks.

But I can't get it out of my mind.

It's like I want to stick a garden hose into my ear and wash those obscene images out of my brain.

Oh, and when the 'husband' - pictured on this report like someone in the shadows who eats Frosted Flakes (oh, they'd have to ruin my favorite cereal too, wouldn't they?) - said that he was better than Hugh Hefner, I had a somewhat creepy feeling of near respect for old wrinkly bathrobed Hugh (also, by the way, the bathrobe isn't so weird at the age that man is) who NEVER PRETENDED to have any sort of feelings of love or respect for the women he beds. Not a tinkers dam.

But, these people tried to make me believe this was, as Martha would say, "A Good Thing".

Then, I open up the book I'm reading for my Sunday School class, and the chapter is "Leah: How to live with a man who doesn't love you."

Yup. I'm disturbed all right.

I've got to go find my garden hose.

I was going to cut it up and make it into a really cute wreath like the one I saw on a catalog cover, but, I need it...