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Spaghetti for My Soul




Oh dear, I Opened my mouth and out they came! Words! A string of words like a strand of hot Spaghetti. Words I could never take back! Words that slipped out instead of in. Words that were awful, just awful.

I was mortified. They were the kind of words that immediately after you say them you think, "Did I really say that out loud? Did she hear them? Of course she heard them! How could she not have heard them! She now thinks I'm an idiot! She KNOWS I'm an idiot! What am I thinking? I AM an idiot!"

Let me fill you in. We were at "Spaghetti for the Soul," a conference for women at our church. I was the chairperson who had been working on it for weeks, months actually. Brenda McElroy, our director of Women's Ministry, and I had spent many hours on the phone, in meetings, at lunch and on our computers communicating about this event. We had prayed a lot about it. We were really, really looking forward to it.

Kathy Troccoli and Ellie Lofaro, two "big names" in the world of Christian women's ministry, had agreed to come to little ol' Paducah. They had agreed because they are not "Stars." They are servants. They wanted to spread some truth around, spread a little refreshment, encourage women.

So, the morning begins. I thought it started well since my voice worked and it hadn't worked AT ALL for the past six days. I opened my mouth into the microphone and out it croaked. "Good morning." I wasn't dazzling, but - hey - I got the point across and I hadn't fallen down getting up there. I don't know that our guests were as impressed as they should have been. Perhaps someone should have explained it to them.

Then, the schedule moved along smoothly. One singing session, one talking session and it was already time for a break. I directed the women toward the restrooms and muffins and coffee. I even attempted a lame joke. Hey, I was starting to like this.

That's when God decided to humble me the first time. Oh, Lord, why? Why did those words come out?

Kathy actually is a star, despite her humility, genuineness, great sense of humor and beauty. I mean the woman had a song that was #4, was a Grammy nominee, a Dove winner, is the author of award-winning books, was one of Today's Christian Woman's Most Admired Christian Women in America, etc., etc., etc.

And, as we left the sanctuary, she, this outstanding woman, took my hand and said, very gently, "You are so sweet." Guess what I said in reply? Just guess.

Mature woman that I am, I said, "Oh, I want to be your friend."

Now, I ask you, does that sound like something a 3rd grader would say or what???

"I want to be your friend."

How idiotic.

She probably thinks I'm going to be one of those stalker fans now.

I mean, why couldn't I just have said, "Thank you." and left it at that? Or simply smiled a sweet smile, for pity's sake.

The rest of the conference she called me Tonya. I think she was distancing herself subliminally. I don't blame her.

I want to be your friend.

Pathetic.


This post first appeared on Tracey Buchanan Studio, please read the originial post: here

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Spaghetti for My Soul

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