Thursday, June 9, 2011
Butt I Digress...
When you really need someone to help you, like in a robbery, fire, or assault situation, statistics (which I will not be providing because I'm lazy) have shown that most people will carry on as if they didn't just see what they saw. It's a rare few that step into action and actually do something rather than walk away quickly in the other direction or pull the newspaper up over their eyes.
I'm going to tell you a story about a brave woman that defied the odds and reached out to help me.
This happened about six years ago. I came to DC to visit my boyfriend at the time who was there for work for a few months. We spent a day being all touristy and went from monuments to museums kinda like that scene from National Lampoon's European Vacation when they go to visit the Louvre. Our last stop on the tour de Washington was the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. It was a Saturday during the peak of tourist season in the nation's capital so the crowd was thick, agitated, and most unfortunately...sweaty.
After perusing the museum for about an hour we went into the room with the T. Rex to cool off. As I was standing there, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I spun around to see what was going on and this sweet young lady, that didn't speak any English, was whispering something to me that I didn't understand. She could tell that I didn't understand her so she started motioning something to me with her hands. I still didn't understand. Then, she pointed at my butt and blushed.
As I turned and looked down at my derriere, I saw more than I had expected.
My skirt was tucked into my underwear.
Not just a little bit.
All. the. way. tucked in.
Right butt cheek, meet the people of the Smithsonian. People of the Smithsonian, meet my right butt cheek.
I immediately untucked my skirt and turned bright red. I hugged that wonderful brave soul and thanked her in the only way I know how....a high five. Yes. Yes I did.
It immediately hit me that the first thing I did when we got to the museum was visit the ladies room. The realization that my butt cheek had been exposed the entire time we had been walking around sunk in like a tons of bricks.
The next thing I did was turn to my boyfriend with fire blazing in my eyes wondering why in the world he didn't tell me that I had been walking around with my skirt tucked into my underwear for a solid hour or more. His defense was that he had no idea because hadn't looked at my butt for over an hour. He quickly realized that came out all wrong and went for what he felt was the compliment route, "Well, of all the displays in the Smithsonian today, I bet yours was the one most photographed!"
I thought back to how I had bent over really far to view the Hope Diamond and wondered how many people got some extra hope that day.
I was so embarrassed. I think my face was perma-red for the rest of the day. The paranoia crept in as we exited the museum. I held onto my skirt as if it was going to tuck itself back into my underwear against my will. Everyone that was laughing must be laughing at me. If anyone looked at me, I had to restrain myself from yelling, "SHOWS OVER PERV!" at them.
I was so thankful that out of all the people that saw my butt that day, someone was finally brave enough to come over to me and let me know. And she didn't even speak my language. She didn't give up on me when I didn't understand her at first. She kept trying ways to make me understand without spinning me around and untucking it herself. She didn't want to embarrass me so she tried to whisper and make small gestures. That truly did take a lot of guts. For all the people that saw my butt and laughed, pointed, and took pictures...there was someone that was willing to take a risk and let me know so that I could fix it.
(I'm fixin' to pull a Pastor Matt, and Jesus Juke this story.)
When we see someone that is struggling with sin, intead of talking about them behind their backs, judging them from affar, and avoiding them so that we don't have to get our hands dirty or spend our own energy, we need to be brave and let them know.
I can make a million excuses to keep sin in my life. And I do. Oh, boy, do I. But sometimes I don't realize I'm sinning until someone is brave enough to step out of the crowd of pointers and gazers, and help me see it and fix it.
I'm not saying this is an easy thing to do. People don't like to be called out on their sin. They could get mad at you, deny there is a problem, and ignore you. Sin is a messy business, friends. Messy indeed. That's why it takes someone brave, loving, merciful, and graceful to fight it.
What is the best way to call people out on their sin without being too judgmental? Have you ever had someone call you out on sin in your life? Have you ever unknowingly walked around with your butt showing? Let's talk.....