Embarassment for the Lord

Last year, right around Christmas, Crazy Aunt asked me to come sing at her church (where the Uncle married to Crazy Aunt is the Minister of Music) as a birthday present to her. We had it all set up and then the church had something else booked on that day and it had to get cancelled.

So a few weeks ago, she called and asked if I would sing for her Sunday (the one that just passed). She wanted me to sing "Breath of Heaven", a song from Mary's perspective on the journey to Bethlehem. It's a beautiful song, one of my standards, and holds so much more meaning to me now that I have carried a child and understand how powerful it is even WITHOUT knowing it's God's son.

The weekend was made even more special by my cousin Brian and his lovely wife, Maegan and my Munner and Mama being there (along with Crazy Aunt's family that LIVES at her house). We all were there overnight Saturday, so we talked, goofed off, played dominoes and just enjoyed each other (and then there was the post-church Thanksgiving meal Crazy Aunt that was AMAZING). It was a wonderful weekend.

But the hubs is the Minister of Music at our church, so he's not able to travel with me on Sundays, usually, and I don't like to take Tucker (for her comfort) to a nursery in a new church where she knows no one. That meant her sitting with me during service, which is usually not a big deal. She stays relatively quiet and is pretty easy to entertain.

It also meant her sitting with any one of a group of relatives that she adores while I sang - her Nana, Munner, Tooter Booter (my baby cousin who is now almost 13), Brian, or Maegan. No problem, right?

Nope. Not. Gonna. Happen.

Even when I rehearsed with the mic pre-service, she demanded she stand by me and hold onto my leg.

I decided, again, this really wasn't a problem. It's a song about a mother, and I am one, so no issue. And my child is SHY in front of groups of people. No way she'd do any of her "performing" or hamming it up in this situation. She'll probably just hide behind my legs with a death grip the entire song.

(Anyone catching the foreshadowing here? If not, you've never spent much time with a 2 year old.)

About 2 sentences into the song, she began walking in circles around my legs (and the mic stand). By the time I got to the second verse, she was running in circles around my legs. By the chorus, she was sprinting from one end of the pulpit area (stage) back to me, slamming into my legs.

(I keep on singing, figuring it's what I'm here to do and maybe people in the back who can't see her can still worship through the song. My biggest fear is that she will run off the steps at the front of the stage and hurt herself, but I'm counting on the myriad of family members sitting within a yard or two to prevent this from happening as I can only watch her from the corner of my eye.)

Somewhere during the second chorus, she slammed into my legs so hard during one of her sprints, she knocked the microphone off the stand and I barely caught it as it went flying to the ground.

At this point, she was close enough for me to grab something other than her hair, so I lunged for her hand and held it, thinking, "NOW I've got it under control. It'll be fine now."

Ha.

She took the opportunity to go limp, thus swinging from my hand around my body and falling below me. Which was funny. To her. Thus she tried to repeat it over and over.

Yep, folks, that's what you call embarassment for the Lord.

Apparently, there's video. Some guy with a camera from the church said, "I don't have the beginning because I don't usually video in church, but when she started acting up, I knew I had to get it."

Awesome. (I promise I'll share when I get it.)

The preacher, who, incidentally is the father of THESE guys, was sweet and said that although he was sure it wasn't my vision for the song, it was God's vision; that there was nothing more appropriate and special than having my "breath of Heaven" dancing around me while I sang that song.

I cried at this point. I'm not sure if it was of embarassment, hilarity, or the sweet words he said. It was probably some combination of all three.

Ain't being a parent grand?!?

Love & Shipoopies,
Leslie