Have you ever found yourself in a situation where being polite and proper were the only reason you didn't do something outrageously embarrassing?
I found myself strangely uncomfortable and unnervingly quiet the other night. We had attended what we thought was to be a nice small group Bible study. We had joined the Sunday before under the pretense that this would be a good way to make some connections in the church and also the write up of the actual book caught our interest.
Unbeknown to us, we had signed up for 13 weeks of Bible bootcamp!!
As the pastor outlined the purpose of the study and in great detail described the amount of homework involved...I found myself involuntarily twitching!
I glanced over at Tradesman who was watching the pastor with rapt attention. He looked over at me rather triumphantly as if to say...this is what I've been looking for, something with some real meat!
Well, ahem...whats wrong with just a little appetizer? I'm not really feeling all that hungry anyway, honest.
With 5 children, 2 in ballet, 2 in hockey and skating, homeschooling to do, and a worship choreography to prepare for and teach in our homeschool support group shortly-I feel my plate is full. My mind was running a million miles an hour. I was contemplating exit strategy's, scoping out the area wondering who might get in my way and weighing out if I could take them down.
Just then the pastor mentions the reasons he decided to teach the classes himself and keep the amount of people to a certain number. One was quality control and the second being policing the group. Only those who had signed up would be allowed to attend because they were the ones that had committed to doing the work. I was in lockdown. It was his way of separating the wishy-washy "maybes" from the determined "doers!!"
Ah, "excuse me, I really am a wishy-washy maybe and somehow I got put on the determined doer list and really I have noooo idea how that happened" is all that kept running through my brain. I had to use every bit of restraint to keep from blurting it out.
Just staying put on that couch beside my sweet Tradesman who was obliviously unaware of my inner turmoil, was taking every ounce of self-control I had!
The pastor started to outline some of the work involved. There were 5 days of lessons to be completed before the following week. Each lesson was anywheres from 3 to 6 pages long. This was no regular size book either. This was a big old book the size of a binder! I knew if he continued, I would end up on the floor sucking my thumb in the fetal position. Now that would be embarrassing!
Finishing off my very last cell of sanity was the contract. We were all handed a page with which we were to sign our very deep and serious commitment to the course and all that it entailed.
Eagerly, Tradesman signed and handed me the pen with great anticipation. I reluctantly took it with a plastered on smile and scratched out my name painfully.
I felt as if I had signed over my first-born child. The only thing that I could find comfort in was the knowledge of coffee and brownies awaiting us in the kitchen.
I planned on locking myself in the bathroom with about 4 of them.
As we finished praying, him for the group and I for a loophole, a ray of hope was introduced.
The pastor discussed the importance of keeping a journal during the entire length of the study.
Now that is something that I can do. I love keeping a journal. I have kept a journal of prayer off and on for years.
The homework I will endure, but the journal I will embrace!
Don't take me wrong, the pursuit of knowledge and most importantly greater intimacy with my Heavenly Father is something that I am passionate about. Going back to school however, is something I have no desire for.
I have given my word though, actually I signed my neighbors name...kidding.
So I will persevere!
I will keep you all posted in the weeks to come.