Who Am I?

This has been such a busy week that I've hardly had time to think about my blog, let alone actually come up with something to write! So today's entry will be a compilation of several anecdotes from the past week.
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Last night was our last "regular" night of VBS, but we still have the big wrap-up party to anticipate tonight. That's where the kids get to go to one final "Sing and Play Stampede," as well as take part in some outdoor games, view a slide show depicting the events of the week and chow down on some chuckwagon grub (hot dogs, potato salad and iced sugar cookies are my guesses). Vacation Bible School has been an unequivocal success this year, something we haven't always been able to say in the past, and I think I know what has made the difference but I won't speculate on the reason here; I will simply say that the entire week has been a delight and the kids, as usual, have had a fantastic time.

We only had two brand-new registrants last night so I was able to slip into the adult class for only the second time all week (I also caught about twenty minutes of Tuesday night's class). Our guest speaker was Clyde Sales, the preacher for the Genesee Avenue congregation in Columbus. Genesee Avenue is either predominantly African-American or perhaps entirely African-American--Randy could probably tell me definitively--but Clyde is just what you'd expect. He has preached at Southwestern before and usually pokes fun at our buttoned-up ways, our inability to shout "Amen!" or "Preach it, brother!" with ease, etc. If he asks a question, he expects an answer, and he regularly asks, "Why are y'all just sitting there looking at me?!" He said that he'd recently had a stroke (I wasn't aware) and lost sight in one of his eyes, but he's lost none of his passion or fire for preaching the word of God.

What made me laugh repeatedly was his admonition for whatever poor volunteer who'd offered to read Scripture aloud to "hurry up and read!" "What are you waiting for?!" And then no more than three or four words would be out of the reader's mouth before Clyde was interrupting and talking over him/her, only to repeat, "What are you waiting for? Read!"

I was the first brave soul to offer to read and he seemed taken by surprise (or perhaps this was more of his poking fun) at the fact that a woman was allowed to read in the assembly at Southwestern (he certainly wouldn't have questioned it at Genesee Avenue, but I told you he thinks we're backwards, and in a lot of ways we are!). Once he got over that shock, he interrupted me to ask what translation we use at SW--his way of stating that I was reading the wrong verse. For the record, though, he had cited the wrong passage so we were ALL in the wrong place! So, after ALL those interruptions, when I finally thought I was going to get a chance to read, he stopped me every three or four words and went through the scenario I described above until I honestly had no idea when I should read and when I should keep my mouth shut!

Brother Sales did ask my name at one point, but I soon came to be known as "Randy's wife." "Randy's wife, read that passage again." A few others read scriptures here and there but about mid-way through the class I heard, "Randy's wife, you read it--I like the way you read." "Okay, Randy's wife, GO!" "Read, Randy's wife!" At one point I looked down at my shirt and laughed because I was wearing not one but THREE nametags; one said "Andrea Todd" (given to me by the VBS Coordinator), one said "Mom" (courtesy of Darce) and one said, "Mommmmmy" (that would be Peyton). And here I was hearing "Randy's wife" every thirty seconds, and the name followed me all the way out to the parking lot as I was leaving. I was briefly on the verge of a real identity crisis, but I'm over it now. Whew!
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You know, now that I see the length of this entry, I think I'll save a couple of the other stories for future blog posts. But since I addressed the topic of "tongue-tanglers" on Monday, I will leave you with this verbal faux pas from Peyton: Don't ask me to remember what was taking place at the time but there was some big racket going on and Peyton, entering the room, questioned, "What's that smell I hear?!" She is most definitely her father's daughter!