Hallelujah and praise be! Generally, I'm not the holy roller type at all. However, amazing grace entered into my life today and I can only interpret it as a sign from above that somebody up there likes me. I mean, really, really likes me. (Channeling Sally Field always lightens my mood)No, I didn't find an inspirational image of the Virgin Mary delicately etched into my Pop Tart this morning. Nor did I convert to the revolutionary Church Of The Farting Preacher. Instead, I've fretted countless hours this week about the Sharing Time assignment given to my Primary class at Church. It involves props, 7-8 year olds, and horror of horrors, public speaking. Whenever public speaking is required, I nearly hyperventilate, and I start praying like a school child for a Snow Day to cancel the event. Given that I live in Houston, my Snow Day prayers have never been answered. Thankfully, the Lord does work in mysterious ways.
Last night, I opened up my e-mail to find a glorious message declaring all Church meetings canceled today due to the heavy fumes permeating the Chapel because of recent renovations. It's a freakin miracle! The heavens doth opened up, and poured me a blessing, the likes of which my heart could not contain it all.
This means, of course, that I now have a whole other week to squander and procrastinate. HE knows me so very well. Amen.
7 comments:
You lucky duck! Why don't they just move you to a different chapel? Elastic, I've heard you say this before, but I just don't see you as afraid of public speaking. You seem confident and self-assured. I honestly can't imagine you being scared of anything. I have to teach RS today. I don't think we're having any work done on our building, and the forecast doesn't look like it holds any natural disasters, so I guess I'm stuck.
Talk about procrastinating: it’s Sunday and have just had the finest jog. To put it mildly, I’m really sweaty, smelly and need to have a swim!!! On the other hand, am tempted to pick up and race through to the finish of my sunday reading: a book on Che Guevara "the african dream, diaries of the revolutionary war in the congo".
But, rather than ramble on about such indecision or about the queen of all my dreams, I better read this post (all I can say at this point is this: it looks like an excellent party piece…or is it a tutorial on how to make better and beautiful music with a farting Nun organ?
Wait! I’d better read it and get straight to the point …
BrB
Okay, knees up to you honeybee…found your post hysterically funny and very entertaining. So, are you off to a Sunday dance party? I think am off to a dip. Robert Tilton’s Farting is not so much of a gross violation of farting etiquette smelly, noisy and a definite no-no. From a different perspective, I can imagine a planet where the sense of smell is used to identify when one needs to get laid? Where mating smells that make you horny have to compete with the farty smells that make you disgusting. I certainly am sweaty and definitely need a dip…
That is a miracle. Do you know if renovations are scheduled for Dallas anytime soon?
A lucky break, eh lady? Seriously I still find getting up and talking in front of a group a bit hairy. Luckily I don't have to do it very often. Still it is never that bad once I get going and get started... then again 10 minutes and the audience are either asleep or gnawing limbs off in desperation!
Miracles of miracles! You must be obeying commandments especially well lately. Could you put in a good word for me 2 sundays from now?
I totally laughed out loud at the thought of people desperately gnawing limbs off, as though the assembly chairs were their steel jawed trap. You always know just the right thing to say jams!
For everybody else, I SUCK at public speaking. I wrote my fabulous little homeschool skit and flubbed several of the best lines due to stage fright. I'm a lover, not a fighter, and I'm a writer/reader not an actor/speaker.
I didn't grow up in the church so I never really know what's expected of me and how to put together presentations. Not even those aimed at children. My armpits are itching with nervousness right now just thinking about the Sunday to come. Sad, really.
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