Unmentionables

You do not want to see the mystery underpants.
Here is a nice butterfly instead.

My friend!

I’ve missed you. As December approached, I’ve been locked in a wrestling match with the Lord.  I’m not winning, but I’m spending a great deal of time in prayer, which is a close second.  I’m continually amazed how many times I can go to the Lord with my struggles: not once has he dropped an anvil on my head.  That would be surprising wouldn’t it? 

“Lord, could we go over your sovereignty once more because I’m still having some trouble with your plan.”

WHAM! (Anvil falls stage right, missing our heroine by a mere 4 inches.)

“Maybe later?”

Life around my home has provided many opportunities to be thankful, although many have proved stressful.  A few rough days resulted in my teen asking if I would drive her to classes as opposed to her taking the car.  I agreed to chauffeur, allowing her extra time to cram for a chemistry test, enjoying the moments we have to chat and catch up.  The drive in was soggy but uneventful.  A kiss on the cheek, the backpack hoisted over her shoulder and I watched her small frame walk away from me.  I pulled away smiling, it is nice when you like and love your children at the same time. 

I was expecting a call post chemistry test to hear how it went.  What I was not expecting was the amount of hysterical laughter that greeted me after my, “Hello?”

“Mum, the most embarrassing thing happened.  I have no idea how.”

“Well that is a statement. First how was the test?”

“The test was way better than I expected, I did fine, improved my grade.”

“Excellent.  What was embarrassing?”

At this point, I need to tell you things are going to get awkward.  I’m determined to conduct myself with the appropriate amount of home school decorum, but be warned, we are headed for the rails.

“Well, I went to sit down in class, and by my feet in the isle I saw a headband.  I looked about to see if someone dropped it but then, I realized it was (sister’s name) underpants so I scooped them up!  I wondered if they were in my sweater or something when I pulled it out of the dryer this morning.”  She collapsed into a fit of giggles.  “I couldn’t believe it!  They were just lying there.  I really hope no one saw.”

“Excuse me?  You found your sister’s skivvies on the floor of your chemistry class?”

The response was unintelligible, something between snorts and crying.  I attributed a certain amount of it to post-test stress disorder. “Yes,” she squeaked and starting laughing again. At this moment, I need to tell you that not all underwear owned by homeschooling females are granny camo briefs.  Anyone who does theatre will tell you that nothing gets rid of underwear lines like not having any underwear lines to contend with.  Enter the minimalist underpants. Her sister’s apparently, in the isle of the chemistry class, scooped up by my daughter.  The wheezing continued on the end of the line.

“Okay tiger.  Way to both humiliate and defend your sister’s honour.  Are you coming home?”

My daughter managed to get a grip and moved on from the underpants caper.  I had to laugh because my girl, in the throes of an awkward moment, hadn’t put the whole scene together yet.  That is to say, she was not calculating the fact that NO ONE in class even knew she had a sister and probably thought the skivvies in question were hers.  Somewhere, in that first year chemistry class, could be a person who thought my daughter was an exhibitionist home schooler with an underpants issue.

She would put two and two together at some point. 

I would help her. 

The whole scenario did replay itself in my head though and when it did, I was struck by a few things.  First was the manner in which my girl, when faced with an awkward scene, immediately set herself to covering up her sister’s potential embarrassment.  She knew her sister’s skivvies shouldn’t be in the middle of chemistry class and grabbed them, instead of leaving them in the isle.  I was touched by her actions; I would have looked at the ceiling and kept going.  Finding the presence of mind during embarrassment is a rare skill set.  

One of the most depressing things about watching societal decline is the sheer amount of material out there that is aimed at embarrassing other humans when they are in a vulnerable position.  Though it isn’t a straight exchange, the scripture that comes to my mind is Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.1 Peter 4:8 In the times in which we live it isn’t always enough to forgive, we must have within our hearts the earnest affection that causes us to protect those who stumble as opposed to making their weakness an object of scorn or ridicule. 

Second thing I noted were the steps she went through when confronted with that awkward vulnerability.  First she reacted to cover the situation, second she created a narrative with the information she had at hand.  I thought both of those things were significant.  How often do we react in a tense situation and then are left trying to figure out what just happened?  Someone can be shockingly rude and we are left to construct a narrative as to why they would act out.  Lack of information leaves us guessing, the danger lies in the fact that our information can be entirely wrong.  Left to our constructed narrative, we operate out of judgment and misunderstanding.  It’s an uncomfortable place to be. 

As in so many of life’s awkward situations, they key to success lies within the attitude of the heart.  If compassion resides within, I am likely to cover and protect those who make mistakes without having to know all the details.  I will be slow to recount their missteps and will remember I cannot possibly account fully for the actions of others.  If compassion is not found in my soul when humiliation strikes, I will be first in line to heap scorn and fake outrage to the fires that voraciously consume lives almost every day.  Those fires bring devastation and can turn in an instant.  I am well advised to have nothing to do with them.

It was a full four hours later when my daughter came in the front door with her friend.  Immediately, she ran down to her sister and handed over her skivvies.

“Oh my gosh, did you hear what I did? They must have been in my sweater, I’m so sorry.  It was really embarrassing.”

“Yes, I did,” was her sister’s reply.  She peered into her sister’s hand.  “Umm…not sure how to tell you this…but those aren’t mine!”

“What?!”

“Look at the brand.  I don’t own any of those.  Whose underpants did you take?” 

“NO! Wait, what? MUM?”  My daughter flew upstairs with the contraband knickers in her hand.  Looking at me, she held them out, “Are these yours?”

“No, child of mine.  Those are not my underwear.”

The look of shock gave way to a delightful scream of disbelief.  “Oh no!  Whose are they then?”

The sound of hysterical laughter rang through the house, it took ages for it to die down.

Be careful out there.

xoxKaren

ps. Photo by ‪Dima Visozki‬‏ from Pexels