It's pretty good here. I'm curled up on the couch accompanied by a double ear infection.
I know, you're jealous.
But on the bright side, being sick motivates me to do nothing, and then I get super motivated to blog. I'm also particularly motivated today because I had a couple super encouraging experiences this afternoon and it just makes me want to tell the world about how great Jesus is. So here I am! And I thought it was about time I tell you all another recollection from the saga of embarrassment called my life, followed by a reminder of how very loved you all are.
This one comes from my sophomore year of high school - a prime time to get yourself caught in an uncomfortable situation. I was in Newport, Rhode Island (a lovely place you must visit if you haven't yet) on a church retreat with my youth group. Every year we took this trip in the spring and stayed at an adorable little camp by the water. It brought some of my favorite memories from this stage of my life (this being one of them that I still haven't lived down... six years later).
One of the traditions of this trip was going on a cliff walk. It's an absolutely gorgeous view, walking above the water adjacent to beautifully historic mansions that I'll never get to live in.
Example A:
Out of the four cliff walks I went on throughout my time as a high school student, this year stood out to me the most. Why? Well, for a reason only I could find myself capable of - I nearly wet my pants. For the entire two and a half hours we were there, I had to pee. SO. BADLY. And do you think there was a port-a-potty to be had? No, of course not. So I was forced to hold it for that long and attempt walking at the same time. It was the longest two and a half hours of my life, and I could barely enjoy the cliff walk because I just about did the entire thing with my legs crossed. Thankfully, I made it, but it took begging our bus driver to pull into a Stop and Shop and let me sprint through the parking lot, down the cereal aisle, and into their bathrooms, practically diving into the porcelain bowl. It was the best pee I ever took.
So great! Happy ending, right? Hold on. It hasn't gotten embarrassing enough.
I'm enjoying myself a couple hours later back at the camp, just hanging out at the basketball courts with my friend Chelsea. During our conversation, I realize I have to pee again. Because I had been holding it for so long earlier in the day, it came on like a wrecking ball and my bladder went from zero to 100 real quick. As I'm awkwardly running away as fast as a sixteen-year-old with a full bladder could, Chelsea is laughing hysterically, which makes me also laugh hysterically, causing more difficulty in my fight to control my fluids. I book it into the main hall, run down the hallway and barge into the bathroom, slamming the stall door shut behind me.
And that's when it happened.
I was literally locking the door when my body decided it couldn't take it any longer. Realizing I had no time to spare, without even taking my shorts off I sat on toilet and peed straight through them.
Okay great, that's out of the way. Now what?
"Well Molly, you have no other choice but to try to run to your cabin, which is all the way across the camp site, without anyone noticing that your shorts are soaked."
Alright. Go time.
So there I was, wet shorts and all, taking off for my cabin and ignoring anyone who questioned me. Now here's the kicker: I wasn't supposed to be running. I wasn't even supposed to be jogging. Because two weeks prior, I had gotten surgery... on my butt. Yes, on my butt. Because where else would a person like me need a surgical procedure? Don't ask.
I think we'll end there. Just know that I quickly showered and got changed into dry shorts.
It's moments in my life like this that were so incredibly awkward, miserable, and rather soggy when they were happening. But for years later, it has made such a great story over and over again. Don't get me wrong, those hours of holding in my pee were painful and at the age of sixteen I was understandably ashamed that I wet my pants. But now here I am, laughing at myself.
I think we go through a lot of really painful seasons in life, not knowing in that moment that years later it will make a really great story to tell.
I was reminded of this in my devotionals today, which lead me to Lamentations 3:19-23:
"I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I will remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord's great love we are
not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness."
I know - my comedic anecdote is not the worst thing that's ever happened to me. But trust me, there have been times in my life that have been so dark and lonely that out of my bitter, angry, sinful heart I've refused to pay any attention to God. But as I look back on these times and reflect on their outcomes, I realize that what I should have felt is hope. God never throws you on the ground just to leave you there forever. You might be there for a while, but I believe He always does it with the intention of picking us up.
Have you ever tried to help someone up without them leaning forward at all? It doesn't work out too well. In difficult times, it's tempting to just lay flat on the ground like a child who is upset with their father when they don't get their way. The light at the end of the tunnel will come, but God will pick you up more quickly if you reach out your hand toward Him first. It might feel like the world is toppling over you right now, but you are loved by a God who is greater than it all, and because of that you will not be defeated. Call this to mind, and therefore have hope. It is going to get better.
Today's song of the day comes from a band I had the privilege of seeing live three years ago. Their style never gets old and I absolutely love the back-up vocals on this one. I hope it makes your heart as happy as it makes mine:
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