Saturday, May 12, 2007

Dear God,

I had a little run in with a public restroom paper towel holder. I simply pushed down the lever to get a paper towel to dry my hands when the darn thing blew apart. The front popped out and fell down, a spring flew into my hands, and the edge scraped my arm. Standing in front of the mirror looking at the cock-eyed towel holder and my scratched arm, my whole body burst into laughter. Who else would experience such a thing? It was waiting for me to arrive. I walked out of the room laughing so hard I couldn't even explain to my friend what had happened. When I finally calmed down, I told the server about the broken holder. She responded, "Now, say that again. What happened?"

The story of my life. What is it with me? I experience the craziest things. I had just finished a conversation with my daughter a few hours before. She had been pleading with me not to paint my cathedral ceiling bathroom. "Mom, you're clumsy. You know something will happen. Remember when you went shopping at the huge Kroger store and you found the only square inch with a grape on it and you slid and fell? Don't paint the bathroom!!!"

Undoubtedly I am the only person to have walked into a sharp pencil and had it sticking out my foot. I am probably the only person to have a large cross fall on her. I am the only person to have used my hands to fight off a small fire on a cross where sins were posted to keep a forest from burning down. I am perhaps the only person to run into the ocean and crip out with an injured knee. I am positive I am the only person to have a vein break in my ring finger sending me to the hospital because it swelled up. I am surely the only person to find the only small rock on the church parking lot who fell breaking my foot in three places. And I'm sure if I had a little more time I'd think of at least a dozen more things.

Am I careless, Lord? Am I truly clumsy? Am I an accident waiting to happen? If so, why would anyone want to be around me other than to rescue me? I don't intentionally look for something to do! And I hate the attention my clumsiness brings me. Well, at least they're good for a laugh!

Dear God,
what is it with me?
I can't figure it out!
Teach me
the path toward self control,
except when you need
to control me.
Keep me on the path
of safety.
Make me,
remould the carelessness
or at least
keep me away
from possible
injury sites.
Help me
trust you more.
And keep me laughing,
it keeps me sane.
I love you.

Love, Andrea