Led worship today. We had it down – 4 songs, easy, we’d done them before, no biggie. Rundown went: “Arise”, “All Things Are Possible”, “Blessed Be Your Name” & “How Great Thou Art”. Arise was the prelude – so band & WT as everybody makes their way into the sanctuary. Well done, no biggie. Announcements. Cool. Then I stand everybody & say something to the effect of “Let’s open our hearts & lift our voices….yabba shabba…wakka doo….and All Things Are Possible”. And I’m trying to find the entrance point….nope, that ain’t it….and, no…that ain’t it. Then the piano player (who’s also singing) starts singing, “Blessed be Your name….” and I realize why I can’t find my way in. Totally different song. Can’t fix it….so, here we go with the wrong song. (Oh, and the words for All Things were already up for everybody, so the cong. KNEW.) But, they came along & that went well. Song ends. I start praying…waiting to see where piano guy is going – will he go back to the 1st song or go ahead to the last song….and nothing. He plays nothing. So….I finish praying & glance over at Connie who mouths, “ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE”. And I say, with all the grace & aplomb of a professional, “Okay….then we’re gonna go BACK and do All Things Are Possible!!” Like a major dork. Meanwhile, the pastor, who had been up near the doors in the back comes striding down the aisle to his seat, looking for all the world like he’s going to have a baby. Our team is just DYING up there, certain that everyone thinks we’re losers. By the time we leave the platform, Connie & I are nearly vomiting with the stress. ‘Course, to everybody else who wasn’t up there with us, it was no big deal. It’s times like this, however, that I truly hate myself. I don’t know why – since none of it was my fault or anything, but I just leave feeling like a complete loser. It sucks being a perfectionist AND a dork.
Maggie woke up this morning covered in little red welts. Could be flea bites…could be chicken pox. ‘Course, being April & having been 40 degrees the past few days, coupled with the fact that we don’t have a pet, probably isn’t fleas. So…looks like the pox has hit our house. I simply can’t wait to have 3 kids down with the pox. Maggie’s trying so hard to be brave & not scratch & not come near Henry, but she just cries. I think she feels like a leper. This oughta be a loooooooooong week. Or two. < sob >Tweet