I guess that’s about as silly as snow birds who expect to see alligators swarming all over Florida, even marching down the middle aisle of WalMart. (Come to think of it, I have seen a gator or two in the WalMart parking lot, but hey, they never made it in the store.)
But nope. I saw nary a blade of blue and no derbies, only the hind end of one small pony in a barn. But I did meet the best people and had a glorious time getting to know a lovely group of ladies at the Heartland Women’s Conference in Paducah. *A special shout-out of gratitude to Kathy, whose kindness in taking care of me over the weekend was w-a-y above and beyond. You were truly Papa God’s love with skin on it, girlfriend!
I’d like to share three very cool Kentucky God-smack moments with you; the kind that are accompanied by warm-fuzzies. The ones that show us that Papa God is always with us; watching our backs, goosing us onward when necessary, ministering to us through others in intimate ways only He can know, and always ready to chuckle with us in a funny moment that no one else sees.
Due to space, I’ll share one today and another tomorrow and the third the next day. So be sure you hit the subscribe button (to your right) if you haven’t already, so my posts will automatically appear in your inbox.
#1. I was getting ready for the first of my three presentations over two days when Joey, the sound guy, handed me the lapel mic and heavy black amp box (you’ve no doubt seen them peeking out of your minister’s back pocket) to hook on myself somewhere. I looked down and realized I’d made a dreadful mistake. I always wear suits when I speak for that very reason – there’s a waistband to hook the little amp box on in back and be discreetly covered by the jacket. But not that day. I’d been so excited about my pretty new lacy red dress that I forgot why I don’t wear them for speaking. Nowhere to attach the amp.
So there I stood, trying to figure how to clip this weighty, bulky thing to my panty hose waistband through the dress (yes, doesn’t that sound attractive, not to mention PROFESSIONAL?) but it would do nothing but bunch up and pop off. Wearing it underneath the dress was not an option unless I wanted to be remembered as B3: Bertha Big Behunkus.
Not going to happen.
Poor Joey stood there helplessly watching me fumble and fail (men sound techs are usually politely hesitant to clip equipment on you themselves for obvious reasons, although I have run into a few, even in church settings, who seemed to take great delight in the perks of their job by groping around for places to hang them.)
Now I probably need to mention here that Joey is a tee shirt-wearing, most likely single but I didn’t ask, computer nerd type guy, the kind who is terrific at all things cyber. He no doubt rises to all challenges, finding solutions in the most direct and logical way possible. The knowledgeable and capable dude you’d want running your sound system.
But he is not the guy you’d take with you shopping for a prom dress. Fashion sense is permanently AWOL from his skill set.
So Joey, wheels churning in his just-fix-the-problem left brain, suddenly reached for his worn brown leather belt and began to unbuckle it, saying totally seriously, “Here, wear this. The amp will clip to it.”
Okay, just stop right now and picture a hefty man’s big ugly utilitarian brown leather belt cinched like a gigantic zip tie around the waist of your keynote speaker’s fancy red lace dress. Nice, huh? Memorable, I suppose, but not in a good way.
I felt my eyeballs go round as dinner plates. “Um … oh … uh … thank you so much,” I stammered, hoping against hope he would STOP undressing RIGHT NOW, “but I think that might be a little distracting to the audience. Let me try to clip it to my neckline under my hair in back.”
Thank goodness it worked. I had to grab a chunk of bra strap in the clip to stabilize it and keep my back neckline from drooping to my panties from the amp anchor and choking me in the front, but whew– it did the trick.
Just before going out on stage, I whispered “Thank you, Jesus!” and shot Joey a thumbs up. Good to go.
Stay tuned tomorrow for Kentucky
Derby Debbie, part 2.