A few mornings ago, a tractor trailer flipped to it's side on our MAJOR  highway, the Beltway.   This was the #1 news story that morning, as newscasters reported to the multitude of people who use this road every day how best to maneuver through the streets to avoid the accident.  Trust me, this was a really big story that morning and people were listening.

I quickly got absorbed in the hype because I travel the Beltway to get to work.  I needed to know exactly where the accident was, how soon the road be cleared, how long I should expect my commute to be, you know, all the things that mattered to me.

But there was a major part of this story that no one was talking about, that no one seemed to care much about.

The truck driver died.  And it was barely mentioned.

I never heard his name.

We hear stories like and instead of shedding tears over a man whose life has been lost, instead of sympathizing and emphasizing with a family's loss, we're concerned about what this means to our morning commute.

I'm ashamed of us.  I'm ashamed of myself.

Is this what we've come to?  I pray not.

It occurs to me that there are two things that life is too short to worry about -- making my bed and washing dishes.

The End.

Today was a horrible day at church.

There, I said it.  And I'm not taking it back.  It really was bad.

It started at the very beginning of the service when the microphones weren't working.  It's been said that the devil resides in the AV system, and it appeared that was the case today.

Then, because it was our annual Women's Focus Sunday, the order of service was a little different from usual, so people were confused.  Yes, things were printed in our bulletin, but weekly habits are hard to break.  So many people were doing the things that we usually do, in the order in which we usually do them, but today, that was all wrong.  And one of the associate ministers stood up to tell us so.  That was inappropriate, embarrassing, and just plain bad.

The Praise and Worship Team very poorly sang a song that the choir nor the congregation knew, and that was a mess.  The choir was a mess, and I can say that cause I'm a choir member.  I sang a solo and I also was a mess.  My voice gave out and I had to clear my throat in the middle of my verse.  Again... embarrassing and just plain bad.

The guest minister seemed to read most of her sermon and, for the most part, I found her to be boring.  Her points didn't hang together in a way that kept me interested, I wanted to  fall asleep, I tell you, church was just bad today.  But let me ask you a question...

Why is that something we don't like to say?

We'll say that a day at work was bad.  We'll say that a concert or movie was bad.  We'll even say that a visit with family or friends was bad.  But good church girls hardly ever say that church was bad, when the truth of the matter is, sometimes it is.

This isn't at all to suggest that God is bad or any less awesome than we know Him to be.  It's just that, from time to time, we earthly beings fall a little short of worshiping Him in a manner befitting all that He is or in a manner that feeds us the way we need to be fed.  We try, but sometimes the AV doesn't work and the choir sounds a mess and the minister is boring.

I know what you're thinking.  "Maybe it was just you, Gail!  Maybe the problem was in your attitude."  I hear you.  That's a logical statement and there are times when that's been the case. 

But not today.

And I know this because I wasn't the only one who felt this way.  I looked around the sanctuary.  I saw the blank stares, the agitated jitters, and the sly glances at the watches.  I saw people nodding off to sleep, trying their best to escape the madness. 

During the serrice I had my share of side conversations with people who were equally in awe of this horrible service.  And the second after the benediction was recited, we collectively ran to the exit door as if there was someone in church parking lot giving away brand new shoes.  Nice ones.

But thank God for second chances!

If the Lord is willing and if the creek don't rise (as the old folks used to say), we'll have another chance at church next Sunday.  I'll let you know how it goes.

The Super Bowl was last night.  I didn't watch the game, but I did watch the half time show.  And I saw Beyonce almost fall.

I felt sorry for her because I knew that in spite of the thousands of steps she made flawlessly, folks would be talking about how she stumbled. 

And I was right.

Almost immediately my Facebook page was full of questions and giggles, folks amused by how this woman dared to be human and almost fell.

But what impressed me most was how she bounced back.  Did you notice it?

Not once did she lose the rhythm, not once did she miss as beat, Beyonce bounced back.  She was still Beyonce, she survived the thing that almost happened, and she finished on top.

There are lessons in this for those of us who have dared to be human and who have made a few mistakes.

First of all, we have KEEP THE BEAT.  By this I mean that we can't let other aspects of our lives go to pot while we're dealing with a current mishap.  We have to keep our fingers popping, if you will,  and keep life moving as we deal with that major issue that needs our attention at that moment. 

And we have to BEAR THE BRUNT of people talking about us when we're down.  But don't let it worry you, next week they'll be talking about something else, that's how those people are.  Plus, you know that your situation is only temporary, remember, you're getting ready to bounce back.

Lastly, we have to BELIEVE in the big bounce back.  We have to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that though we may be down, we're not out and as long as we have breath, we can bounce back.

Dear Blog,

I'm sorry.

I've ignored you and haven't given  you the time or the exposure you're worthy of.

On this day, February 7, 2016, I promise to do better.

When I want to watch dumb shows on TV or play Words With Friends or talk on the phone, I will consider you sitting here all alone, with no one writing and no one reading.  Just alone.  And I will visit with you.  I will.

I will write about my day, I will tell stories, I will share lessons, I will do all of those things that any decent blog writer would do.  And I will smile while doing it, seeing you not as a chore, but as a part of my routine.

You and me, blog.  We're about to get close again.  You. And. Me.

Love,
Gail