The Chambered Nautilus
"Deep calls to deep..." Psalm 42:7
...uncurling and growing into the wonderful grace of God.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Peculiar Situations--Boyfriends and Bras
(This is a
two-part series. Tomorrow’s is titled Bras,
Horses and Cats. Please bear with me. God is teaching me and sometimes it
takes some time and effort to connect the dots.)
situations seem to be a penchant of mine. Perhaps, the Lord is just trying to
teach me to laugh at myself, to not take myself so seriously or just to keep
life in perspective. I’m not completely sure of his lessons or his methodology.
Not because I don’t trust him; I’m just not sure I trust myself to respond
appropriately. I tend to lean toward making a fool of myself—of course that
would imply I am not a fool in the first place.
daughter coined a phrase for me. We were riding in the car listening to the
Disney Pandora station. Both of us were loudly singing every song we knew and
even some we didn’t. She commented that it was a very peculiar situation for a mom to be in a car with her eighteen year
old daughter engaged in this activity. (I think my husband thought so too.)
And then I
realized something. For thirty-some years God has been using peculiar
situations to teach me. I am a slow learner.
for one of these:my car trunk debacle
during the past Christmas season—that was just one peculiar situation in a long
line of many.
I’ll share a
few others in a two part series.
I have not used names in order to
protect the innocent. (I'm chuckling right now.)
When I was
fourteen and in the eighth grade I was going
steady with a really cool guy—he was ever so handsome (he had a full beard
as a freshman in high school). I never could quite understand how I managed to be
dating him. Certainly the adjective cool could
not have been applied to me, but somehow we were an item. It was just too good
to be true.
It was too good to be true.
A couple of
months into our relationship I heard an undercurrent buzz: he was cheating on
me with one of the color guard girls. I was just a lowly clarinet player,
nothing nearly as glamorous as the color guard.
Now, with thirty-some years of
experience behind me I think everyone wanted me to hear the rumors. Are you
kidding? HE probably wanted me to
hear the rumors. The rumors alluded to the location and time of my boyfriend
and this girl’s clandestine meeting place. Somehow I drummed up enough courage
to go see for myself. Sure enough. There they were—locked in a very intimate
embrace (holding hands and leaning into one another). Others saw me coming and
alerted them, but it was apparent they
were prepared for my appearance. Many students watched me walk into this
awkward situation. Some snickered and pointed. Some averted their eyes. Some
walked away. Needless to say, that cool boyfriend and I broke up that day.
Brokenhearted and embarrassed I realized I had not only been dumped, but duped.
I’m not sure which I disliked more.
several years. I’m married now and in labor (prime place to be in a peculiar
situation) with my first child. I engaged in quite an adamant argument with ALL the
medical staff who were assisting this birth about the removal of a particular
undergarment I wore. I informed them I was not removing it. They informed me I
had to comply. The situation escalated. Finally, I looked at the head nurse and
informed her that if something dire went wrong (she told me of all possible
scenarios) that she had my permission to cut the garment right off of me and
throw it in the trash. I most surely could replace it if need be.
labor is NOT a time to argue with a laboring mother. They shook their heads.
Threw up their hands. And they complied. I came out of that delivery room with
said undergarment intact. Surely there were other things I should have been
concerned with. Certainly there were things far more pressing happening in that
given moment, but I didn’t want to deal with embarrassment on top of all the
other indignities. I know. I know
there will be other mothers who will read this and think I was crazy and not
agree. This, they say, was the last thing on their mind or not on their mind at
all. But it was mine. Being exposed embarrassed me. Being in an awkward
situation and exposed was very hard
to deal with and this was my way of controlling it as best as I could.