Have you ever found yourself in an embarrassing situation? Completely discombobulated and undone before 8 a.m.?
Let me take you back a few years to the “freak show era.” A time when our home was bursting at the seams with whiny toddlers, energetic children, and moody teenagers sporting raging hormones. Groceries vanished before our very eyes and we kept a pair of Holstein busy supplying the milk necessary to sustain our tribe.
We encouraged summer jobs, and Jesse’s started bright and early and a few miles away. He needed a ride.
Early morning didn’t mean the house was peaceful, enveloped in dark solitude. No, our family included a couple of early rising tykes looking to fill their bellies. “Mom, mama, mommy, mom” filled the air the moment their eyes popped open. Darlings. Rest for me was light years ahead.
I remember the chaotic swirl of morning activity, throwing together some sort of pb&c (peanut butter & cheese whiz) delight and leaving “the littles” in the care of a responsible sibling as I escaped the ruckus to taxi our son. Be right back.
Now, I don’t know about you, but to this day my last “minute” of walking out the door is rarely only a minute long. Predictably I grab one more forgotten item, turn off an appliance, flip a light switch, leave further instructions, sign a note, pull meat out of the freezer for dinner and break up a fight, pulling the door closed behind me.
With pleasure, I pulled onto the road, proudly glancing over at my industrious son and down at the dash of my trusty station wagon. It was then I first noticed the needle, leaning hard on E.
Duh!
Lord, please let us get to town. Please don’t let my boy be late for work. Also, if he didn’t hate me that would be good.
In my mind’s eye, I flipped through the possible scenarios.
- Deliver my son to work safely and on time (my preferred choice.)
- Trot down the edge of the road in painful silence beside a sulking teenager as I accept full responsibility for the empty tank.
- Stand on the shoulder of 21 Highway with my thumb out begging Goodness Knows Who to pick us up and (hopefully) deliver us to the next town.
Right around that time it occurred to me that I was still wearing my pajamas. Friend, this was years before it was in any way common or acceptable to wear pajamas in public. There wasn’t a Walmart within 100 miles of here. And these pjs were not your standard “hanging out at home” comfy flannel pants. Nope. Picture an ill-fitting threadbare mishmash of short shorts and my husband’s old t-shirt that begged to be thrown out years before. Lord have mercy.
The impending humiliation burned within my chest. Beads of sweat lined my forehead and I prayed even more earnestly for the car to stay in motion.
As I dropped Jesse off at work and continued to the gas station, I settled into a deep sigh of relief. I made it. Relaxing safely out of sight as the attendant filled my car with gas, I watched the early morning rush of customers streaming in and out. Commuters fueled up and locals grabbed a coffee, complaining about the bean crops.
And then it happened. The gas boy approached my window to deliver the bad news. The computer in the kiosk was not working and I would need to proceed inside to pay. I had almost made it.
And in I went. Morning face, messy hair, ugly pajamas, and thankful heart.
Listen sister, today I want to embrace that thankfulness. It’s our choice to make, isn’t it? I bet you’ve been involved in a few unexpected situations, too. Life’s like that.
Whatever the circumstance, whatever the outcome, let’s be determined to find something to be thankful for.
I choose joy! I could have chosen to be upset and embarrassed. Or I could be thankful that I wasn’t forced to hitch a ride. Because believe me, chances are nobody was stopping to pick me up that day!
♥ Tess
I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart;
I will tell of all your wonderful deeds. Psalm 9:1
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
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Love this. I can picture your kid with you, not thrilled with your choice of garment.
Thank you John. To be honest I was more worried about what the poor boy would endure than my own embarrassment.