Sunday Morning Drama

Some Sunday mornings just don’t get off to a good start – like today for instance. I’m was getting ready for church after changing my clothes ten million times because we decided to go all GA bulldog colors at the last second. We aren’t normally the color-coordinating clothes family but today we were in honor of last night’s GA/Clemson game. Hey – we are not fair weather fans. We dress the part even in rare instances we lose.

I had fifteen minutes to blow dry my hair and get out the door but a few minutes into it my hairdryer did this sparking fire thing and then started smoking violently in my hand. It smelled horrible and scared me to death. I threw it in the sink. I know, stupid! Wet sink + Burning up hairdryer = fried mama. I’m just glad God is gracious and he protects his blonder-than-normal children with great care.

I threw my wet hair up in a clip and checked on the kids. Dressed and ready to go – Mitchell in his black shorts & red varsity tshirt and Sophie in her cute little denim skirt & red cowgirl boots.

We got to church and I was excited about meeting a new friend for the first time. Her daughter and Sophie had a playdate together this weekend and they were going to visit our church this morning. I met my friend at the church office and then showed her where the kids would go. We were running a little late so I was hurrying out of the nursery and that’s when my ankle gave way and I went spilling all over the floor. Like bottom on the floor and legs sprawled out. I sat there to think about the whole thing for a second. Did Satan just try to wipe me out again? Probably not but let’s take a second to name the people observing the incident: our youth pastor, new visiting friend, nursery workers. Lovely.

I got back up and was totally fine thankfully.

I met up with my visiting friend who had a full on view of my hallway spill. She had the exact same smile I would be wearing if I witnessed that whole falling out episode. She said with compassion, “Are you okay?” And then we busted out laughing. She had  squeaky shoes on and I had the potential of doing the same thing all over again (I have a bum ankle) while we walked down the church aisle late. But we found a seat middle way and I just prayed I would make it through church with no further complications.

Hey, at least I can say for the first time ever that I ‘fell out’ in church.