A well-oiled machine.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 3 comments link this postThe Sunday service was spectacular.
First, I lost a sheet of music so after the entire congregation had been readied and was waiting to sing, they instead got to watch me fumble around in my books and even look under the piano bench. Michael, who was leading worship, said that "we can just sing this one a Capella." Oh, the words I lack to describe the moment of horror when I realized that the song that was up on the overhead was nowhere to be seen.
Eyes! All eyes on me!
How dumb I did feel, sitting in front of the piano, wondering where the music I had pulled out not an hour earlier had gone to. After the opening song, while everyone walked around and greeted each other (and there were quite a few there, it being Mother's Day), I had to endure -- ENDURE!!! -- multitudes of jokes on how the piano wasn't plugged in and various references to the embarrassment.
Aiee.
I won't mention the surprise hymn Pastor Tony selected to sing right after our regularsinging, which caused me some serious stress as I was already feeling behind the musical eight ball.
Where should I start for the intro? How does this song go? Figure it out now! 6/8! I thought, bumbling around on the keyboard.
Then, since it was Mother's Day, the dreaded Portable Microphone Paralysis set in. Pastor made everyone say something about their mothers, speaking into the portable microphone that was passed around. My mom was sitting in the back row of the church. The mic eventually came to me despite all the praying I was doing to keep that from happening, and after announcing to the congregation that I didn't like speaking in front of people I rambled on into a bunch of other dumb stuff about growing up and slamming doors and the patience of my mother and her godly example and blah blah blah. Other people said things like "I love my mom! She's the best mom ever!" whereas I said "uh" about 20 times and little else.
I am a car wreck when a microphone is placed in front of me.
At the end, I noted that I wasn't going to get all mushy or dole out hugs, since I just don't do that.
At the end of the service (which also suffered one of those embarrassing cell phone interruptions, which only happen to people who aren't sure how to shut their phone off), Pastor gave some final instructions. "If you have a mother here today, go give her a hug..."
I had already stood and was walking to the front of the church to sit at the piano for the closing music.
"...even if you are supposed to be playing the piano." Everyone started to laugh.
This was not a day for the introverted.
Without missing a step, I switched directions and walked to the back of the church and gave mom a hug while everyone watched and chuckled.
After church was all done, I stood by dad at the door, watching people leave. "I run that piano department like a well-oiled machine," I joked.
"It runs better than the machinery I've been working on," he grumped, the sound of a happy farmer at the start of a new season.
We made* mom carry the tray from the pickup window back to our booth at the Dairy Queen afterwards. Mother's Day is a special day.
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* No, we didn't make her. She just went and did it right away.
Labels: church life, family, music, my life
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 5/11/2008 10:38:00 PM (3) comments Links to this post
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3 Comments:
Julie --
I do so love when you post on your foibles. Not because I take any pleasure in your pain, but because they are, in a rather strange way, theraputic.
I am there with you, feeling the discomfort. Feeling the pressure. Feeling all those eyes looking at me, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Of course, it goes without saying, there is the sense of everything closing in, the incredible heat and redness in the face, and enough water in sweat to fill in a small lake.
Your sharing of the day-to-day experiences in your life, the exciting as well as the mundane, but also the nightmarish, allows me to deal with the same in my life a little more light heartedly, with more humor. In other words, I take myself a little less seriously.
For that, I cannot thank you enough.
Rey
By Rey, at 12/5/08 06:55
Julie,
Its nice to hear about a church that I haven't seen in a long time. I am currently loving and will love the place God has taken me, but I do, once in a while, miss the old pews with red cushions, the small group of people, the three or four kids my age who were my best friends cause we went to church together.
Life is hard enough and is harder when I can't remember any of the good things. Its good to hear that you were able to be embarrassed at your church. I don't feel that I have that right anymore.
cabes
By Caleb, at 12/5/08 13:48
Sadly, I find myself doing something dumb that causes me to be embarrassed about 90 percent of the time.
I only share small portions of my shame on this blog.
It really was a pretty good Sunday, though.
By Julie R. Neidlinger, at 12/5/08 14:35
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