I have sooooo much going on right now - edjumakating my Kiddo, carting Momma back and forth for radiation, working on Worship Team stuff (we're recording ANOTHER CD on September 12th! WOOT WOOT!), etc, etc, that I have had no time to get a battery for my camera. That's my excuse for not getting a post up with pics and I'm sticking to it. So, in light of that, I will do what everyone does in blogland and repost an earlier post. This one makes me laugh every time I read it. And since today while I was in rehearsal with some of my favorite peeps in the world, we started talking about our Atlanta trips and I was reminded once again about...well, I'll let you read about it....
May 8, 2008
I have mentioned many times about my trip to Atlanta (or, as Scarlett O'Hara says, "AtLANta") where I fell in the parking lot of North Point Community Church. I've put off explaining it for long enough. You deserve the story. Maybe. Anyway, here goes...
A year ago, we (meaning a bunch of friends from my church and I) were on our way out of one of the sessions of the Thirsty '07 conference being held at North Point. It was the absolute best conference I've ever been to. Such a place for soul rest. Time to drink in the beauty of Jesus. Worship led by the likes of David Crowder, Matt Redman, and my fav-o-rite of all favorites, Chris Tomlin. So as we were leaving that place of worship, rest, and healing, I noticed that part of the parking lot had been cordoned off by little orange traffic cones. They looked a lot like these:
Heading for the vans, we stepped off the sidewalk very close to the traffic cones. I, obviously, a little too close. After seeing the traffic cones and subconsciously telling myself, "Stay away from those things...they are there to let us know not to go near them," I suddenly feel something wrapping itself around my foot. At first, I thought it was my purse, which tends to get in my way (that is another post in and of itself). Then, when I realized it wasn't my bag, I thought, "What in the world? I need to get away from this thing." Then, it was as if time stopped. I realized I had tripped on one of the neon orange traffic cones that were there to keep people off of them. And I began to fall.
I fell forever. I tried to right myself, but just couldn't get my feet right. I kept falling. I noticed the blue of the sky and the green of the trees. I fell some more. I recited the Gettysburg Address. Twice. Ten minutes later (okay, it was really just seven) when I finally landed on the asphalt of the parking lot, I was laughing so hard at myself that all my friends were standing over me wondering if I was okay (and laughing their heads off once they realized I was okay). I was fine, my foot was just a little scraped. And my pride was more than a little bruised.
So there you go. Full disclosure. I feel cleansed.
I have no idea what happened to the little orange traffic cone. It was probably helped back to its post by its little neon buddies. After they finished laughing at it.