Surprises

I am living proof that we don’t always get what we expect.  There are all kinds of surprises – good and bad – all around us.  I did not expect to have cancer, but it happened.  No matter what kind of unexpected events come our way, our reaction is always our choice.  I refuse to be anything but positive in this journey.  God did not design me to be afraid and worried.  Psalm 91 says that He wants to protect me and save me.  I am asking Him to make good on that promise.  If you think about it, please pray for me.  I need it. 

Meanwhile, in the midst of all my doctor’s visits, I started thinking about some unexpected things that weren’t quite so serious.  I am going to need my sense of humor to get through this new bump in the road.  So, I would like to remind you that we don’t always get what we expect, even in a worship service.  Here is one of those unexpected things:

It was many years ago and Easter Sunday was approaching.  There was a lot of hoopla in our church surrounding a special guest who had been invited for our Easter morning worship service.  He was a singer.  Not just any singer.  He was a countertenor.  All the publicity said that he had a voice range of five octaves.  Everyone seemed to be rather impressed.  I had no idea what a countertenor was.  I had no idea what five octaves might be.  I just decided to be every bit as impressed as everyone else.  I could hardly wait for Easter.  It was going to be magnificent and I knew it.  I have always loved music – especially the older hymns – and I have always enjoyed the way music can just set the mood for the entire worship service.   Easter was going to be special!

So, Easter morning came.  It was the kind of Easter morning that you always hope for – pretty, bright, sunny, not too cold.  We hurried to the worship service as fast as we could after Sunday school.  The agreement was that the first one in the family to arrive would save all our seats.  Daddy was the first one there, so we had seats about five pews from the front on the left hand side of the sanctuary.  To my way of thinking, we had the best seats in the house to enjoy The Countertenor and his voice.  

There were people galore.  The folding chairs were set up in the aisles so that we could accommodate everyone.  I figured there would be a big turnout – it was Easter and we had the added attraction of The Countertenor.  I was right – there was a bumper crop of churchgoers.  For some reason, I got to sit at the end of the pew.  That was where Daddy normally sat, but it ended up being my spot that day.  All the better for seeing The Countertenor.  Mama was keeping the nursery.   I felt so sorry for her.  She was going to miss The Countertenor.  But the rest of us, we were ready to just sit back and enjoy.

My Daddy loved music, but he was a terrible singer.  He had two favorite hymns, “Victory in Jesus” and “Up from the Grave He Arose” (sometimes called “Low in the Grave He Lay,” but the same song nonetheless).  We usually only sang the latter at Easter - and Easter didn’t disappoint.  Daddy and I sang “Up from the Grave He Arose” with a lot of enthusiasm.  We wanted to impress The Countertenor with our effort if not our voices.  No way did we want him thinking he had an Easter morning engagement in a subpar congregation. 

We greeted, welcomed, sang, prayed, and collected the offering.  It was finally time.  The Countertenor was introduced and I gave him an encouraging smile - just in case he might be nervous singing for such a large crowd.  He stepped up, the music began and he sang. And I was completely shocked.  Not in a particularly good way.  What on earth?!  I am not believing what I am hearing.  This is a countertenor??  He. Sounds. Like. A. Woman.  There was an audible gasp from Daddy, so I turned to look up at him.  Mistake.  Big, big mistake.  Daddy was by all accounts just as surprised as I was.  Mama could conjure up a poker face at will, but she was in the nursery.  I’m pretty sure that I got my how-to-handle-a-surprise genes from Daddy.  We never could hide anything.  We were doing everything in our power to keep from laughing – not at The Countertenor, but at each other. 

I risked glancing around.  It was evident that we weren’t the only ones who were surprised.  I think, though, that we were the only ones shaking the pew because we were trying so hard not to laugh.    We managed to gain some control, but it lasted only until the kid sitting in front of us put his fingers in his ears and said, “Mama, it’s awful!”  Shaking pew once again.

When church was over, we hurried out as fast as we could.  No reason to linger over The Countertenor fiasco and make it worse.  While other families were being sociable, mine was hot-footing it to the nursery to tell Mama to meet us at the car.  It was the best we could do at the time.  When we got home, we told Mama all about it.  She was appropriately mortified over our behavior.  We tried hard to be contrite.  And when Mama turned around to put the milk in the refrigerator, I know I saw her smile.

 He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting.  Job 8:21