Say What?

Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy in the opening sc...
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It was the first day of Bible Study and introductions were in order.  As one of the leaders, I stood up in front of the women with my partner in crime (AKA my co-leader), and we modeled an interview style of the proverbial “get to know you” exercise.  

I handed out a simple questionnaire to the women so that the game might not get out of control and also to keep us on track.  So, as per the instructions, my co-leader and I began to fill out the form, which was rather easy, because we know each other pretty well. 

My co-leader inquired of my hobbies.  I answered, “Reading, writing, exercise, and my kids…”my babies.”  My implication was that with three munchkins, most, if not all my spare time is consumed with my children and their activities.

What she heard was a different story. 

My co-leader is a beautiful young woman.  She is energetic, wise, and rambunctious.  She is also slightly deaf when her allergies are bad.  I like to tease her about it because I tend to rush about muttering out directions as I move around like a whirling dervish.  Unfortunately, due to fluid backed up in her ears, she can’t hear me… at all.  And so the comedy that ensues is classic Laurel and Hardy.

I will ask her to help me carry something in and instead she turns and walks away.  I call her name and she turns and looks around, but in the wrong direction.  Now, if she were really deaf, I would never tease her, but the occasional hard of hearing day when the pollens are high, is dare I say…amusing?

So, on this fateful day, when she introduced me to the group of about forty women, she started with my name and noted that I was the pastor’s wife.  Then talked about my family, work, and writing.  Finally, she got to my hobbies.

“So Sam likes to read, write, exercise, and “make babies,” she shares; completely serious in her demeanor, straight-faced and dead pan.

And the room erupted in a roar of laughter; the hold your belly, from the bottom of your toes kind of laughter. It was pure ruckus that reverberated off the ceiling.

I turned and protested.  “I did not say that!”

Right back at me, she said, “Oh yes you did!”

My face turned scarlet and the group laughed all the more. 

There we stood arguing in front of the study, like two buffoons, my co-leader stubborn in her stance on what she had heard, and me, stuttering like a fool in defense at what I had said.

Later, after the laughter had died down, I reflected on my own struggle with deafness in the spiritual realm.  How often does God communicate with me, and just like my friend, I hear something entirely different.   My Lord speaks, and at times, I plug my ears like a child and shake my head in defiance, hearing only what I want to hear. 

Ironically, my husband and I have been praying about having another baby.  I’m still not sold on it, though God may be trying to drop a very loud hint.  Because apparently making babies is my new hobby.

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