Everyone had such great points why NOT to divulge my little haven…that I felt an ENTIRE POST was needed to respond.
So, to bring you into my world for a minute…
Let’s start with a story.
Back in high school, around driving age, I was dating this boy.
Said boy went to a different church than me. Some Sundays, I would go to HIS church instead of the one my family and I had gone to since I was like, three.
On the days I went to the boyfriend’s church, we would bring home a program with the Sunday Sermon to be prepared to answer the, “so what’d you hear/learn/do in church today?” questions from my mom.
Because we said we were going to church. And she expected we would have some sort of information about our morning’s lifted-up-by-the-Holy-Spirit experience.
One particular Sunday, we decided NOT to go to the service. At this point, I don’t even remember WHY we didn’t go. I guess we had some sort of urge to ruffle our rebellious feathers.
Our perfectly crafted plan – developed in the teenager typical five minutes -went something like this: We attended Sunday School for Teens…where mostly you goof off for an hour…so we could say we actually WENT to church. After gossip hour, we walked by the sanctuary and picked up a program sitting in a wicker basket by the door so we’d have PROOF. DOCUMENTATION of our participation.
Then we turned our heels and walked right out of the double doors.
We drove over to his house and waited for “church hour” to tick by so we could go back to MY HOUSE for lunch. Because my mom made the good lunches. And his mom never went grocery shopping. So there was never a discussion on which house to go to.
Mine won. Always.
So, at noon sharp, we make the trip over to my house and saunter into my finished basement, feeling smug like we’d just pulled one over on EVERYONE because WE DIDN’T GO TO CHURCH but would have everyone believing otherwise.
Because we were home exactly fifteen minutes AFTER CHURCH WAS OVER.
Because we were smart enough to pick up a PROGRAM FOR THAT DAY.
We sat on the couch and watched TV. Waiting on my mom and brothers to get home from their church service.
About ten minutes later, my mom walks in, lugging grocery bags from an impromptu trip to the grocery store after church.
The first words out of her mouth weren’t “What would you like for lunch?” or “LOOK! I went grocery shopping!” or “Make yourself useful and help me with these!”
It was: “So, how was church?”
START PLAN OF PRETEND CHURCH ACTION.
AND WOW…did we feed her a load of bull shit. Completely plausible, of course, because it was all right there, in the program. Backing us up.
Then she says, “Really? Sounds like it was a great sermon!”
We smile like we’ve just gotten away with murder.
“IT WAS. Life changing, I tell you. Absolutely amazing.”
My mom drops the grocery bags, stands straight up and looks ME square in the eye and says, “Oh! Guess who I RAN INTO AT THE GROCERY STORE?”
I’m all, “I have no idea?! A clown? The Pope!? Maybe one of the Beatles??…”
She says nothing.
Still…quiet…boyfriend is no longer rattling off whatever Bible verses he could remember and is instead looking at the floor and shuffling his feet.
I start sweating…unable to make myself speak…to defend myself…to come up with SOMETHING to say.
Mom: “I ran into Joey’s MOM!”
(Joey was a friend of my then boy friend…whose ENTIRE FAMILY were members and devout Sunday worshippers at the church we skipped out on)
I just continued to stare at her…silently praying to the God I left in favor of watching TV this day to allow me this ONE chance to slide by and I swore I’d never skip out again on church or step on another ant or blame my brothers for something I did ever, EVER again.
Mom: “Funny thing, she said the sermon was wonderful…yet…she didn’t SEE either of you today at church.”
And that was it. We were hung right out to dry and suffered the consequences.
We’ll just say “lunch” wasn’t exactly served that Sunday.
Ratted out in one of the most IMPOSSIBLE SCENARIOS.
Because of course, MY MOM and JOEY’S MOM would need something from the EXACT SAME GROCERY STORE in the EXACT SAME AISLE at the EXACT SAME TIME AFTER CHURCH.
And the two churches…by the way, were MILES APART with about five different grocery store options between the two.
I never lied to her again…because it didn’t matter WHAT IT WAS.
She found out.
The “happenings” in my life are like a horribly twisted six degrees of separation. She knows somebody who knows somebody who knows the cousin of the uncle’s child twice removed who READS THIS BLOG.
So – the whole point of this story…
I tell THE FAMILY about the blog because even if I don’t…they’ll find out. And I learned in high school that it’s easier to deal with it BEFORE than to hide it and have the motherly wrath bestowed upon me.
I’ll take my punishment up front. Thanks.
Hey, at least I was honest.