The Wrinkling Clock: The Irony of Calendar Girls

In the trucks that roll down America's interstates, there's usually a handful of beautiful women in the cab. It may be a frosty January morning, but there's Cindy, clad in nothing but her hot pink two-piece, sunning on a beach.
Veronica in March.
Becky in June.
Crystal in November.
They all have snow-white teeth, sun-kissed skin, ample bosoms. And their lips are ever so slightly parted, in that come-and-get-me-big-boy kind of way.

When you’re a calendar girl, the calendar doesn’t matter. Every day is summer, every locale a beach, every closet full of just enough clothing to cover the bare essentials.

But as January passes to February, and February to March, what happens? The girls too pass away. Their paper icons are torn off, crumpled up, and tossed into the nearest trash. Another month, another girl. Time marches on, you turn the page, and youthful beauty remains.

Youth and beauty remain, yes, but only if we keep replacing the beautiful youths. In time, varicose veins will snake through their once sun-kissed skin. Hungry babies will put those breasts to work someday. Too many cups of coffee, too many packs of cigarettes, will make keeping those teeth white a losing proposition. Or maybe November’s Crystal will simply give up and opt for dentures.

@@The calendar will have its way with these calendar girls, as it will with us all.@@

There is irony everywhere in this world, including the cabs of Freightliners and Peterbilts, where these images of youth are joined to that medium which marks the passage of time, and the passing away of youth. What is it that Isaiah says?

“All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.”

The flower of youth, as lovely as it is, cannot withstand the hot winds of time.

There is a beauty, however, that remains. There is a loveliness so sacrosanct the calendar cannot touch it. It cannot be acquired at the plastic surgeon or earned by sweat at Gold's Gym. It is deeper than skin and more timeless than an hour-glass figure. It is the stunning beauty of a woman who has been bathed, robed, and kissed by the Lord above, whose embrace imparts a beauty not of this world.

“The word of our God stands forever,” Isaiah says. And that word stands to raise up women, to wash away the filth of sin, to adorn you in robes of righteousness, to place round your necks the diamonds of grace and pearls of holiness. It is the saving word that Jesus wraps round you.

That word of love suffuses you with a radiance not of this world. A sanctity that is sublime. It is not makeup, a thin veiling of the blemishes beneath. It is a new creation, a makeover of body and soul as you are joined to him who is perfection incarnate.

@@In Christ, who is the Alpha and Omega, you are safe from the calendar.@@ You are beautiful beyond words, for you are beautiful in Christ. And in him is a loveliness that will never fade.