Crash and Burn

Susan Thoughts on God

Crash and Burn
Dad is sad. Very Very Sad. He had a bad day. What a day Dad had.

Excerpted from Hop on Pop.

It probably started with the fog. It covered the highway like a something out of a Jane Eyre novel as I drove up the shore toward the big town of Duluth on Tuesday. I went to appear on a radio show. And to shop (because every good outing needs shopping). We followed the directions and arrived well in time. And I gave the interview. My girlfriend kept giving me the thumbs up, so I felt as if I’d done okay, hadn’t tripped over my tongue too much, had at least sounded semi-articulate. I was feeling fine. Empowered. Successful. I thought, “Hey, I’m pretty cool.”

We had shopping blessings…front row parking, great deals. Even experienced a God-moment when my girlfriend found the perfect jacket in the right size on the clearance rack.

I was feeling fine until I drove into the driveway….and discovered my garbage littered all over the front yard. The dog met me with his muddy paws. I dragged in my packages and met my husband with words that seemed to emanate from me like an out of body experience. I went to bed feeling yucky.

And woke up feeling worse. Nothing could shake me from this feeling that the fog had filtered into my brain and turned my world soggy and cold. I discovered that because of a glitch, none of my TiVo shows had been recorded. (And Tuesday is my big night – Gilmore Girls, NCIS, Pepper Dennis, the Unit, House…bottom line — don’t call me on a Tuesday night.) I’d forgotten to put my clothes in the dryer and they’d begun to smell. It rained all day and the dog tracked muddy paws through my kitchen. And then I listened to the radio interview.

I stunk. Okay, maybe it wasn’t all my fault – the announcer interrupted me nearly every sentence and my Minnesota nice demanded that I answer, causing me to lose my train of thought. However, I sounded so horrible I ran from the room screaming.

I wasn’t cool. In fact, I could smell the smoke from where my pride lay in a burning rubble.

As I flung myself across my bed (wondering where I’d put the M &Ms), I happened to open to the Bible study for that day. Philippians 1:20: I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

Okay, so reality check. It wasn’t like I was flogged, or shipwrecked, or even forced to eat raw snake or anything. I didn’t nail the interview. Okay, I stunk. But the bottom line was, in analysis, I did what I hoped…I spoke the truth about my love for Christ, and the truth inside my books. Hopefully they heard my desire to be authentic, and my love for my stories.

My kids still think I’m cool. And in the end, there’s only One audience that matters. And He’s got the best reception of anyone.