Random Ramblings #30: We Are All Fools For Something … May As Well Be for Him

Every Friday we’ll take a break from topical posts and will post some random personal thoughts. 

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A Cuppa Joe – Random Ramblings from a Fellow Struggler

Embarrassment is, I believe, one of our worst nightmares. To lose our dignity and feel nakedly exposed to contempt is mortifying, and it can be the stuff of the memories we cringe at – times we were scorned, laughed at or displayed at our worst. For some reason those times in my life I’ve blown it in front of God and everyone have come crashing into my thoughts lately, unwanted but not un-amusing, at least with the distance of time.

Remembering the first time I played the piano in public, for example, still makes my skin crawl. I was 13, not yet a Christian but, like lots of kids in my junior high, I attended a Methodist Sunday school that all the cool kids went to. Someone mentioned during class that Joe Dallas played the piano, and the teacher asked me to give them a sample. “Do you know ‘How Great Thou Art?’”, she asked sweetly. “Or ‘Just a Closer Walk?’” I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about, but I stepped up to the piano and cranked out the first tune that came to mind. The kids loved it, applauding and even whistling, while the teachers sat stiff-backed and frozen. Only when I took my seat did I realize I’d just treated my Methodist Youth Class to a rendition of The Stripper.

Years later as a believer I’d have another piano moment. I was playing for a live telethon on a popular Christian television show, when one of the station’s board members asked me if I’d accompany his daughter while she sang There’s Something About That Name. No rehearsal time was allowed, since it was a spontaneous request, so I asked what key she preferred, waited for the cue, got the signal from the cameraman and played the intro for her. She took a deep breath and proceeded to torture Gaither’s lovely song without mercy, veering off-pitch, punctuating her lyrics with an occasional screech. She wasn’t a singer; Daddy had obviously wanted to give his little girl some exposure. It was mortifying, but worse yet, the piano player got hit with the giggles over the absurdity of it all. My evil imagination saw me jumping in front of the camera saying “Send in a thousand dollars and she’ll stop!”, then seeing the phones light up as desperate callers begged for mercy. That only enhanced my laughing, which got even worse when I realized the camera man was zooming in on me while I guffawed. She’d sing a line; the camera would then close in on me cracking up, then back to her.

Daddy didn’t see the humor in it. He visually dressed me down which only inspired more hopeless laughter. I’m a giggling baboon if I’m in a funny situation where I know I shouldn’t laugh, and someone’s watching me to see if I do. Embarrassment to the max.

Today, I make a fool of myself at fairly regular intervals. Not deliberately, but it seems I can’t put myself out there without occasionally blowing it. And that’s my takeaway in all of this: to try means, at times, to look silly. To be embarrassed. To say, “I know that was dumb, but I gave it my best.” Because when it’s all over, you and I will be rewarded, or suffer loss of reward, according to our willingness to say “yes” even when yes is risky. I’m reminded of this when I read Old Testament battle accounts, many of which were messy, sometimes clumsy, sometimes fiasco-like. We’re called to step out of the boat, cross the un-crossable Red Sea, throw our nets to the other side and see what happens. God is honored when we do, though in the process our feeble efforts can make us look, well, silly.

I think we can live with that this weekend. Because, as experience has shown, we’ll all be fools for something. It may as well be for Him, who will look on us with favor if heartfelt obedience was our goal even if our execution was a bit clumsy.

And when I hear Him say, “Well done, good faithful servant”, I’d be delighted if He’d also lean forward with a wink and add, “And that telethon? Joe, you had us all in stitches.”