Unexpected Moments

Sometimes life presents some unexpected predicaments. Recently, I faced one such dilemma and though I attempted to do so with as much grace and dignity as possible, I have to admit it wasn’t a pleasant experience. A couple of weeks ago I was asked to travel to Overbrook, Kansas, a small farming community about a half hour drive from Topeka, to speak to a group of ladies who meet once a month for an entire day of fellowship, crafts and community service.

Being a lover of all things historical, I was delighted when I learned they regularly meet in the one-room Lickskillet Schoolhouse. (Don't you love that name?) A perfect setting for an author of historical novels, right? Right.

After arriving, I set up for my talk, passed out information about the books, and then decided it might be best to use the restroom before I began my presentation. After opening one door and discovering it was a storage closet, I stopped one of the ladies and inquired where I might find the restroom. She pointed a thumb over her shoulder toward the far end of the room. Now, I may be directionally challenged, but my eyesight is pretty good and I didn’t see anything that resembled the door to a bathroom.

When I expressed my confusion, she laughed and quickly explained she had been pointing outside to the outhouse. Can I just say that my excitement over meeting in the old schoolhouse diminished a tad? And my enthusiasm dropped another notch when one of the ladies called after me with a note of warning about the outhouse door. “Be sure and pull the door tight. If you don’t it will fly open and you’ll provide a lovely view for anyone driving down the highway.” With her words of warning ringing in my ears, I was careful to slam the door after I entered. (This isn't the outhouse, but it had begun to rain and I wasn't able to get a picture of the outhouse or the outside of the schoolhouse unless I wanted to get soaked, so this picture of me with Mary Conneally at another outhouse will have to suffice for now.)

Everything seemed fine until I prepared to leave. I pushed down on the latch, but it wouldn’t budge. No matter what I tried, the door wouldn’t open. I pushed, I pulled, I shoved with my hip, and I even beat on the handle with a broom. When those attempts failed, I yelled. All to no avail. I told myself to remain calm. After all, I was the speaker and someone would soon arrive to check on me. But after fifteen minutes alone in the outhouse, I began to wonder if they’d forgotten they’d invited a speaker. As you can see in the pictures, they were busy enjoying each other while I was locked in the outhouse!

I am not generally claustrophobic, but the walls of that outhouse were beginning to close in on me when I finally said, “Lord, if I’m supposed to get out of here and talk to those ladies, you’re going to have to help me.” At that moment, I reached for the latch, pushed down and the door flew open. Happenstance? Not hardly. God is there in both the big and the small things and on that particular day I was thankful He was there to help me open that door.

When I returned, the ladies were visiting and hadn’t yet missed the fact that I’d been gone for more than a quarter of an hour. Hmm. Maybe they weren’t all that eager to hear me talk! And that awful picture of me at the right is me expressing my disdain and counting off the minutes I was locked in the outhouse. (Not really--it's just a bad picture) And also note that I'm wearing the same jacket I was wearing when Mary and I were standing in front of the outhouse. How's that for planning? Oh, wait, maybe that means I need more clothes. I think I'm off to do a bit of shopping.

May you find joy as you discover God in both the big and little concerns of life. ~Judy

P.S. I'll be in the Amana Colonies for Oktoberfest, so if you're in the area, please stop by.  Saturday, September 29th from 10:00-4:00 p.m. and Sunday, September 30th from 11:00-2:00 p.m.  I'd love the chance to visit with you!