Why me?

Why me? Seriously, why does this stuff always happen to me?

There I was, at a writer’s conference, finally facing a highly-anticipated, scheduled appointment with a literary agent, when I realized I had a little “issue”.

Now, I’m no stranger to “issues”. It seems my life is comprised of an ongoing stream of clumsy mishaps, embarrassing calamities, and mortifying moments. For example, I’ve sauntered with a bold stride out of a restroom of a law office wearing four-inch heels and a three-piece suit, along with a glob of bubble gum on the bottom of my shoe. I’ve walked into a meeting from outdoors and begun to speak, not realizing I was still sporting my prescription sunglasses. Another time, while being interviewed by two new clients over lunch, I eventually realized why they appeared a bit uncomfortable—you would too if you were sitting across from someone who was talking with a wide smile, and a piece of lettuce stuck in her teeth. My worse incident of record was when I stepped up to a podium as the emcee of a large event, only to discover a tacky display of my dangling price tag on my recently purchased brocade jacket. Sigh.

Can you relate? I mean, pul-ease tell me I’m not the only one!

Back to the literary agent. I did my homework. I read about her agency. I read her website posts. And although I wasn’t really ready for an agent, I desired to start a dialogue with one, specifically with her.

I was attending a session before my agent appointment, and as luck had it, there lay an array of tempting snacks on each of the tables for us attendees to avail ourselves to. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I took advantage of a small bag of popcorn. Munching on my treat, I watched the clock hands tick closer to my scheduled “agent time”. The appointment time drew dangerously near as the session continued onward. Clearly, there would be no transition time. I’d have to go straight to my appointment when the session ended. Which I did.

Walking down the hall toward the agent, attempting to appear professional, the middle of my chest signaled a slight tickle. I adjusted my top a bit, only to realize there was a definite presence of something lodged perfectly centered inside the “support” underneath my shirt. Popcorn. Yes, indeed.

I had no choice but to sit, bold and brave, in front of that agent, with my little secret. A warm smile filled my face as I leaned forward, nodded, and jotted notes . . . with a pronounced piece of popcorn inside my shirt.

Here’s the good news. It’s okay. We’re okay. Regardless of any possible judgment we may receive from those around us when our mishaps are exposed, God accepts us just the way we are, and not because of who we are, but because of who He is.

We never embarrass God!

In fact, our mischances can help keep us humble. I don’t know about you, but bubble gum to the shoe, inappropriate eyeglasses, lettuce in my teeth, price tags showing . . . and even popcorn, keeps me humble.

Consider God’s word:

“With God is my salvation and my honor. The rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God.”  Psalm 62:7

“Anyone who trusts in Him will never be disgraced.”  Romans 10:11

God does not mock. He does not forsake. He will stand with you and I as our honor, no matter our circumstances. When we allow ourselves to be humbled amid our embarrassing moments, we free ourselves to experience the strength of God’s grace.

In this case, during my scheduled agent appointment, nobody was aware of my predicament except me. And, if nothing else was accomplished in that meeting with the agent, that prominent piece of popcorn trapped under my shirt certainly kept a smile on my face.

So, I say, let life’s little issues ensue! May they keep us humble, and plant an ever-loving smile on our faces.

 Father God, thank you for never being embarrassed by me, and for standing with me as my honor. Help me see the humor in all my flubs and blunders, to keep me humble, trusting your grace to move me onto whatever my next moment will hold. Amen.