A soft spot in my heart for Bishop ordinations

  Yeah, I’m not kidding at all.  This weekend I revisited all these old emotions that I didn’t know I had any more.  Our church, (Weavertown) had a Bishop ordination.

  When I was seventeen, our church in Ohio had a Bishop ordination too.  And my Dad was in the lot.  So anyway,  the night of the ordination, it starts pouring down rain.  I was in the house all alone.  The rest of my family, like smart people, had decided to leave early.  Well, my brain left my body momentarily, and ALL OF THE SUDDEN, out of the blue, I was running late. Way late.  So I hightail it to church.  The parking lot is jammed.  There is no room for my little white Corsica anywhere.  So I parked across the street far away from church.

   Remember it is pouring down rain.  I race across the road, across the parking lot, and into the church.  I’m am now a drowned rat.  A very late drowned rat.  The church is packed of course.  Just waiting to see me in all my wet, frizzy-haired glory.  I even remember who the ushers are.  They looked at me with puzzled faces, like, why in the world are you not sitting up front with your family?  I ducked into the bathroom to see how much damage had been done.  I remember thinking maybe I could just wait it out in there, but common sense took over and OH MY WORD, I have never been so ashamed walking up an aisle.

  So I march up front, AND OF COURSE, there is no room for me in the benches either.  They had to go and pull one of those giant switcheroos which involves multiple people getting up and moving so little old me could get settled on the family bench.  Ah, that night is stamped forever in my memory.  Seriously, just writing this post made my heart do a crazy little tap dance.

  In case you were wondering, yes, my dad did get ordained bishop that night. When the lot was cast, (or whatever it’s called) my grandpa Yoder made this loud “Uh-Huh” like he had suspected it all along.  See, I remember EVERY itty-bitty detail of this night.  Those are just the main ones I could give you more, but I won’t. Oh, and the new bishop never ever mentioned my little “in front of the church” drama. 

Another tidbit I won’t forget:  The Cleveland Indians lost the World Series that night.  I know that’s lame, but it was important to me back then, so I’ll never forget it.

And now:  It’s 8:30.  Our bags are packed.  We fly to Florida tommorrow morning. My family is having a Florida Thanksgiving this year. You all have a great holiday. I know I will!