Why God? Why did you let me say “Yes”???
You know when someone asks you to do something that you really don’t want to do and you 100 percent KNOW that you don’t want to do it but for whatever reason – whatever stupid lame idiotic reason – you say “ok”? And then you do the thing, whatever thing, but you hate yourself the whole time because you were too dumb/weak/scared/desperate/stupid/stupid/stupid to just say “No”?
Yeah. Me too.
So in the beginning of December one of my co-workers asked me to do something. Something terrible. And I said yes. I agreed to this act and then immediately regretted it. Immediately.
Well, then I thought. Oh obviously he’s had a brain aneurysm. And after he recovers and realizes what he has asked me to do he’ll gracefully renege. He’ll take it back, and then we’ll have an awkward chuckle, and that will be that. Everything will go back to normal.
So you can only imagine my horror when this happened:
Him: Hey, Jamie, remember that thing I asked if you wanted to do, and you said “Yes”?
Me (lying through my teeth): Uh…No.
Him: I asked you in December? You said it would be great… Remember?
Me (still lying): Sure don’t. Sorry.
Him: Ok. Well. I asked if you’d be willing to share your testimony in front of Cultura Vertical?…in spanish?….in January?….And you said “Sure thing. That would be great!” And now it’s January and I was hoping you could tell me which Sunday you’d like to do it so that we can plan around you. So when do you want to do it?
Me: Sorry. What? I wasn’t listening.
Him: *sigh* Will you please share your testimony at Cultura this month?!
Ok, now this is REALLY really important because my mouth pulls this kind of crap over on my brain all the time! Here, in this moment, I have a chance – one chance – to get out of doing this… Watch how this goes down:
My brain said: Um, Hell no. I will not share my testimony in front of a bunch of teenagers who will inevitably make fun of my mispronunciations, my lack of proper conjugation, my accent, my hair, my toenail polish and my scandalous youth. And I don’t have a reason, except that I don’t know the words for “knocked-up”… or “minor emancipation” …or “7 lines of blow” and, basically, there are OTHER things I would RATHER do. Like;
Gouge out my eyes with a fork.
Jump on a cactus….naked.
Take a nap in a mud hole with pigs.
Have my hair put in cornrows.
Shovel elephant poop.
Give an elephant a root canal.
Play cards with the creepy, trani, murderer from Silence of the Lambs.
Kiss a drunk homeless guy full on the mouth.
Kiss an elephant full on the mouth.
Kiss the Silence of the Lambs guy full on the mouth while riding an elephant through a snake pit with cornrows in my hair and forks in my eyes.
But my mouth said: Oooh yeeeah., that. Sure I’ll do that. It will be great. I’ll take the last Sunday, the very last Sunday in January. Mmkay?
And now I hate myself. But mostly I hate my stinkin’ mouth for betraying me. Again.
So anyway, I wanted to ask you to please please please pray for me. Because now I have to plan and prepare and speak a whole bunch of Spanish to a whole bunch of high school students, whom I sincerely LOVE, and who are going to playfully and endearingly laugh at me. Which in all seriousness I don’t mind. I’m way more concerned with my bad Spanish being a major distraction from the incredible story of God’s hand in my life. So pray that God would grant me fluidity, if only for those 15 minutes, on the last Sunday in January, and that they would hear the story flowing from my heart and not the Spanish spilling from my rotten treacherous mouth. Oh, and that my brain would lighten up. So Yeah. Pray for those things.
Cool. Thanks. It’s appreciated.