Last Thursday, I spoke to our Ladies' Group at church. It was a nerve-wracking experience. ...Not because I'm afraid of public speaking - on the contrary - I revel in it. (I don't know if it's because my life is fueled by high-strung stress, or if it's because I just truly enjoy being the center of attention, imparting my well-researched, methodically organized, logically outlined and alliterated knowledge to the world.) But this...speaking before a group of ladies...occupying a lectern that so many Godly women - far more worthy than I - had occupied...sharing a burden, a calling, that God had so deeply impressed on my heart...this was terrifying.
I had prepared the lesson that I felt was what God would have me give - or at least I tried to. I had never written a more difficult devotion, or had more problems preparing a presentation. I researched and studied and prayed for months. My head and my heart were so full, but I couldn't seem to gather my thoughts and organize them into coherent form. I finally locked myself in my classroom Thursday after school and determined that, no matter what, I was going to speak that evening on what God had given me, and I was going to prepare as well as I could. I claimed Proverbs 16:3, "Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be established." I studied and prayed and wrote and organized, not pleased with the outcome, but desperately depending on God to work.
At our meeting that evening, the fellowship flowed around me. I smiled and chatted and enjoyed the food, all the while thinking, "What on earth am I thinking?! I don't need to give this devotion! I should change my topic!!" I reached in the recesses of my mind and began to dust off one of my many "prepared sermonettes," trying to calm my nervous heart. But I knew that was a futile and faithless effort.
When it finally came my turn, I blundered and blubbered through the entire thing - shaking because I was nervous, and crying (at times) when I was deeply touched. (I was highly embarrassed by that...I hate crying in public...my face gets all red and splotchy, and my nose gets all goopy and gross...it is not adorable in the least...) But I managed to survive. ...and I think...perhaps...I managed to impart just a little bit of the truth that God has been teaching me. A truth that, I hope, I will be able to share with you in a (somewhat) timely manner...
Friday, April 27, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Murphy's Laws of Hosiery
If they're expensive, you'll get a run.
If they're your last pair, you'll get a run.
If they're that weird taupe pair that you have no idea how you acquired, and never go with anything, and are only worn in emergencies, you'll never get a run. That pair will last forever, and you will never be justified in throwing it away.
If you're in a hurry, they won't be clean.
If you're running late to church, and have just put lotion on your legs, you will struggle with putting them on, and will tear a HUGE hole in them with your thumbnail. You'll be wearing a short skirt, and the hole will be noticeable. You'll look for another pair, and realize that's your only one (except that weird taupe pair). You'll contemplate going without them, but you'll take one look at your translucent white legs with maps of spider veins and determine you're not that brave. You'll grab your fluorescent orange flip-flops and decide to stop at the drugstore on the way to church. When you reach the drugstore, you won't be able to find the hosiery section. The only employee you'll see will be an acne-encumbered 15 year old boy who will stare at your fluorescent flip-flops and call you ma'am. You'll ask if they carry nylons and he'll look at you as if you're speaking ancient Greek. "Hose," you'll say. He'll turn red. "Not your girlfriend, sweetheart, pantyhose." (It won't be your finest moment.) He'll stare at your glowing white legs and stammer that he doesn't think they have those, but he can check with the manager. You'll say no thanks and storm out of the store. You'll check two other stores before you finally find a pair that is twice what you'd normally pay for nylons. You'll buy them anyway. When you get to church, you'll scramble into the ladies' restroom trying to hide your legs. You'll open the box only to find that the pair you bought is defective and can't be worn...but it's ok because you forgot your heels, and the only shoes you have are your orange flip-flops...
If they're your last pair, you'll get a run.
If they're that weird taupe pair that you have no idea how you acquired, and never go with anything, and are only worn in emergencies, you'll never get a run. That pair will last forever, and you will never be justified in throwing it away.
If you're in a hurry, they won't be clean.
If you're running late to church, and have just put lotion on your legs, you will struggle with putting them on, and will tear a HUGE hole in them with your thumbnail. You'll be wearing a short skirt, and the hole will be noticeable. You'll look for another pair, and realize that's your only one (except that weird taupe pair). You'll contemplate going without them, but you'll take one look at your translucent white legs with maps of spider veins and determine you're not that brave. You'll grab your fluorescent orange flip-flops and decide to stop at the drugstore on the way to church. When you reach the drugstore, you won't be able to find the hosiery section. The only employee you'll see will be an acne-encumbered 15 year old boy who will stare at your fluorescent flip-flops and call you ma'am. You'll ask if they carry nylons and he'll look at you as if you're speaking ancient Greek. "Hose," you'll say. He'll turn red. "Not your girlfriend, sweetheart, pantyhose." (It won't be your finest moment.) He'll stare at your glowing white legs and stammer that he doesn't think they have those, but he can check with the manager. You'll say no thanks and storm out of the store. You'll check two other stores before you finally find a pair that is twice what you'd normally pay for nylons. You'll buy them anyway. When you get to church, you'll scramble into the ladies' restroom trying to hide your legs. You'll open the box only to find that the pair you bought is defective and can't be worn...but it's ok because you forgot your heels, and the only shoes you have are your orange flip-flops...
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