Wow…I am SOOOO glad to be here today. You all have no idea.
No, seriously. I am SOOO thankful to still be alive after yesterday. I am holding my enemies close and my loved ones even closer – well, all except for my teenage sons – I don’t hold them so close cuz they kinda’ smell like – well, teenage BOYS – so the farther I can hold them, the better. Trust me on that.
I really thought yesterday was IT. The day I bite the big one. The end of the world as I know it. The day where my family would be gathering for my wake and having a big old party to memorialize me and drink toasts to the memory of the Drama Queen.
Why, you ask?
I wore jeans to church.
(insert big DUN-DUN-DUMMMMMM music here)
In my defense, Kansas City was hit with a record-breaking blizzard on Christmas Eve – which lasted all through Christmas Day. And although the blizzard “ended”, which just meant the 40-50 mph winds ended, the snow didn’t. It kept snowing Saturday and Sunday…piles and piles of snow. Snow as far as the eyes can see. Lots of snow. Snow. Snow. Snow. (okay, you get the picture).
The snowplows can’t keep up with it – and hence, our roads are a mess. Half of the drivers are getting stuck and then having to wait for the other half to come along and push them along on their merry, snowy way. There's a lot of sticking and pushing going on our streets here.
And so – I wore jeans to church yesterday. On the good chance that either:
1. we’d be stuck and I’d have to get out and push, or
2. someone else would be stuck, and we’d have to get out and push.
Either way, I knew there’d be pushing involved. So – being the good Girl Scout I am, I was PREPARED. I wore jeans.
I arrived at church and then held my breath - and waited for God to smote me. Lightning bolts to come through the church ceiling and strike me down. Right there in the pew. I knew it would just be a matter of time, because growing up, my wise & all-knowing mom would tell me I’d get smote if I wore jeans to church. God was a loving God and all, but He didn’t love blue jeans in church. According to my mom.
And it didn’t happen. Huh. And – for the first time I can remember in a very long time, a good majority of the people there were in blue jeans. Just like me. Apparently, we were all thinking the same thing while getting dressed for church. We were all PREPARED.
And I’m telling you – if 400 people wearing jeans in church didn’t get smote, then I guess God loves us all – whatever we wear to church. And maybe – just maybe – my Mom was wrong. (insert DUN-DUN-DUMMMM music here, too. Because if you know my Mom - you know my Mom is like, never wrong. Ever. So when she IS wrong - she deserves dramatic music. I'm just sayin'.)
And maybe – just maybe – I might just do it again. Maybe. Or maybe I won’t push my luck. You just never know.
Peace.
9 comments:
Well at least you still went to church. =) There are lots of churches now where they don't care what you wear, and even let you eat your donuts and drink coffee during the sermon. Not saying I approve of that part, but I guess they figure it gets more people to come to church.
Haha, love the blog.
We go to a casual non-denominational church... And before that I went to a casual Southern Baptist church... Needless to say I have always worn blue jeans. And it feels good, doesn't it?
Sherri,
I remember the day I got over the blue jeans thing. I was taking my husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, to my church for the first time. Along with that, he was meeting my grandmother for the first time.
Wouldn't you know that when he came to the door he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt! Naturally, I said, "are you not dressed yet?" Only to hear him say he was ready to go.
We then had a conversation about what was appropriate dress for church. It boiled down to: he could either go that day in his jeans, or he would wait a week and dress "appropriately." It was my choice.
So, I took a deep breath, and said I'd rather have him there with me. Then, I held my breath waiting to see my grandmother's reaction.
It turned out that my grandmother had relaxed her opinion of "appropriate dress" in church. The same woman who once told my cousin she would not be seen with him at church because he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, told Rob she was just happy he was there. In fact, she commented that it was good that people were no longer held to strict dress codes. (You can imagine my shock and relief!)
Since then, I've been known to go to church in jeans, and Rob -- well, he wears a suit from time to time. :-)
You all are very supportive - I will be liberated from now on and not feel like the wrath of God is upon my head for wearing jeans to church.... :)
I remember the day when I was younger and I quit wearing white gloves to church - every Sunday, we had white gloves. Imagine the shock & horror from my mother when I rebelled against the white gloves. :)
Girl, I hear you. This took me back to the first day I wore jeans to church...and I'm married to the Pastor. My husband assured me that all would be well, but I was confident that I would be stricken and him along with me for offering his support. But here I sit, able to type out this comment. God is good like that, isn't He?
Found you thru Elastic Waistbands and Comfortable Shoes. Liked this post. I go to a large church with three services, actually only two now because they did away with the contemporary service. Anyway, it has been a big uproar (from the older congregants) through the years about teens and some young adults wearing jeans. I say God meets you wear you are and He doesn't care what you're wearing when you seek Him!
Churces are everywhere the same, even in my neighborhood(insert DUN-DUN-DUMMMM music here! Excellent writing. I love your blog!
my grandpa was a prankster and used to tease me constantly. once during church he slipped his "sunday best" shoe off to show me his sock...one with a hole in the toe. then he winked at me and told me it's ok with god that he wore those socks because they're "holey".
here's to hoping you had a nice, big, old hole in them thar jeans. ;-)
Well, but at least you probably wore your good underwear in case you were in an accident in all that snow. Oh sorry, maybe it was just my Mom that said that kind of stuff!
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