I've decided that this weekend contained too much to write about all in one post. It could be done, but do you really want to spend the next 20 minutes reading about how busy my weekend was? No? I was really hoping you would say yes. But alas, I will only regale you with my Sunday.
Saturday night was Luke's 21st birthday party (among other things, but, you wanted to stick to Sunday, didn't you?) So I didn't get to bed quite as early as I had hoped, but it was still decent. Sunday morning went as usual, choir rehearsal and everything was normal. Except that I was more nervous than I have been since high school, probably. I hide my nervousness as well as an elephant hides his trunk, so I got a lot of, 'you'll be fine's and 'its going to be great's and hugs and sympathetic looks all morning. The telling of the story was... really I don't know. Everyone said I did a great job, but all I remember is shaking, talking and not being able to think straight. I remember only looking at two people the whole time, my dad and Amanda. I didn't stare at them so I guess I blocked most of that part of the morning out. After I finish and was walking down the couple steps between the chancel and the floor, I slipped. I didn't fall, just kind of slid down the stair and threw my arms up to catch myself. Embarrassing, none the less. I don't think anyone laughed though...What happened next was the greatest thing.
Before I go on to tell about the rest of the service, let me tell you this. I know fairly well that I am incapable of expressing how I really felt or all that went on. Read this and imagine more happiness, gratitude, chaos, and confusion than is explicitly conveyed below.
Amanda called the three other new members up to the front and read us questions that we were to answer "I will" to. And we did, of course. After that, we read something out of the bulletin together - she shared with me and Greg (the guy to my right). Then there was the laying on of hands with a prayer by Amanda. She talked about how grateful she was to have us there and how wonderful we were, etc. And she started crying. Big, important point. Crying...really? Over me (and some other people...but me)? We all got hugs then, from the whole congregation, tons and tons of hugs. I could see how this could seem creepy, really I do. But I already had met about half of these people, and all of them were lovely and kind. I felt so special and loved and welcomed, it was a great experience, besides being confused about what I should be doing, and worried that I was doing something wrong (but when is that ever not clouding my thoughts?) I must have been high after that. I kept trying to skip around in heels (note: this is difficult) I walked my dad through the receiving line and he started crying when he talked to Amanda too. I couldn't get enough hugs. I swear I hugged over 50 people yesterday, and it was great. Some people are huggers, and I am one of them, but I'm always lacking that physical contact.
Sunday morning was a crazy confused mix of emotions...Fear and nervousness turning to joy and excitement.
If I haven't conveyed how nervous I was throughout that speech/story thing, maybe this will help: I had to stop in the middle of this post because my stomach hurt so much from the nerves that it caused just thinking about it.
1 comment:
Phil Collins CRIED? I've seen my Dad cry only two times, (MAYBE three) and one of those times was when my Grama died.
I'm glad you had a great experience at church. Church isn't really my thing, but I can see how it would make you feel good and I think that's what it's all about. Congrats on finding somewhere that made you feel so happy and loved. :)
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