e. Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Yes. I'm not joking, either. But before I proceed and you unfriend me on Facebook or stop following this blog or Twitter, may I beg your patience, please?
As some of you know me personally, you know I love a good laugh. I love to make people laugh. So it shouldn't surprise anyone that I'm often at the middle of an embarrassing moment or situation. Which causes the laughter. And jokes. And funny little pictures posted on my Facebook wall.
I not only like to make people laugh, I'm a girly girl. Yes, I know how to shoot a gun (and hit the target), use a garden tiller, roof houses, build chicken coops and sheds, play baseball, etc, but when it comes to going to church or going out, I want to look pretty. Very pretty. Heels, nice dresses, makeup, jewelry. The whole kit and caboodle. This past Sunday was no exception.
Donning my newest dress with a psychedelic pattern (turns out that was a great idea), my strappy heels, my hair, well, it was as nice as it was going to get with its attitude, and my makeup, I pronounced myself ready to go. The children and I load up the car (hubster was at work) and dooty-do, we go to church. No problems yet.
The problem started when I had to go to the bathroom. While I was young, my parents taught us that we never, ever, under any circumstances disrupt church. Which included getting up and going to the bathroom. So, still being in that mindset, I struggle and finally make it through Sunday school. Of course, when you have to go so badly that you know you're going to explode within the next few seconds if you don't hurry, you tend to walk a little, well, funny.
And there he was. The man. (As well as a group of people that I chatted with on my way to the ladies room.) All was going well until I got to the dreaded first step. You know the one. The first step is always the hardest, right? (Especially when you're already walking funny because heavens to Betsy, you're going to explode!)
Then it got me. Well, actually, the first step's lip grabbed my heels. Yes, you read that right. Plural. Not just one heel. No. We're talking both. And then I went lateral. Right. Smack. Dab. Into the arms of....
Who happens to be married to a fantastic friend of mine.
All in front of a GROUP of people I had just chatted with. Some of which were... men.
Oh dear, I looked like I was planking and using D to help me.
And the only thought I had?
Thank you DEAR JESUS, no one SAW my UNDERWEAR!
After righting myself, turning fourteen shades of red, yes it's possible, and laughing like a lunatic, I made it to the bathroom. Where I had to situate myself and of course, take care of business.
Hiding like a thief in the bathroom was not an option as I'm the church pianist, I ventured back in front of the group that had just watched my unladylike debacle, (oh goodness there were new people,) and proceed to warm up my cold, icy fingers for the morning worship service.
Please stand and turn to page 147...
What was the title, you ask?
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms. <~ no joke. God has such a sense of humor, doesn't He?
Proverbs 17:22 ~ A merry heart doeth good like a medicine; but a broken spirit drieth the bones.
Proverbs 15:13 ~ A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
Psalm 128:1-2 ~ Blessed is every one that feareth the LORD; that walketh in his ways. For thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands: happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee.
When I told my parents later that afternoon what had happened, between their gasps for air from laughing so hard, my mother asked if I was embarrassed. The honest truth? Absolutely, with out a shadow of a doubt, I was embarrassed. But one thing I've learned in my 39 years of living?
I'd be missing out on quite a bit of entertainment if I didn't learn to laugh at myself!