The church that I grew up in was pretty normal until a man from India who claimed to be an “apostle” showed up and started brainwashing people with his interpretation of the bible.
In his interpretation, women were supposed to be “modest” and also “submissive.” Here are a few things that he taught from the pulpit.
Women could not wear pants. Women could not wear short skirts. Women should wear long sleeve shirts that buttoned all the way up to the neck. Women could not wear makeup (JEZEBELS!!!!!!) Women could not work out outside of the home. Women should not cut their hair.
And the one that I hated the most, because I was a young teenager, A woman had to cover her head when she prayed.
I remember thinking I was safe from this rule, because I wasn’t married and therefore, it didn’t apply, but my parents disagreed.
I possessed a vagina, which made me a woman, which meant I had to cover my head when I prayed.
Only “when I prayed” meant “the entire church service.”
One of my biggest fears was that someone from my school would visit my church and catch me with a stupid head covering on my head. Or that a really cute boy would come to church and see me with that thing on my head and he’d never want to secretly make out behind the church with me. (For the record, I never actually made out with boys behind the church. I was too chicken and scared of going to hell.)
One Sunday, me and a few of the girls from church were going to put on a little concert of songs about The Lord that we had been practicing for a couple of weeks. (Totally Irrelevant Fact: one of the girls happened to be Tony’s ex-girlfriend, who happened to have a GIANT HAIRY MOLE on her back. Not that I love bringing that up every chance I get or anything. But seriously, I wonder if he ever tried to braid it.)
As my covered headed self stood up there in my Amish outfit, guitar strapped to my neck, I surveyed the audience to see who was going to receive the wonderful blessing that was our All Girl Jesus Chorus, when, to my HORROR, I saw Johnny from school.
Johnny was the nephew of my mom’s best friend and he had recently come to live with her and also, had started attending my high school. I had a crazy crush on the boy, because he was a hot piece of Mexican Cola.
When my eyes locked with his as I stood there on the stage, I instantly felt my entire body get hot from embarrassment. I started to panic.
“OMG! JOHNNY JUST SAW ME IN A HEAD COVERING! OMG! He’s going to tell everyone at school and everyone will tease me and I will have no friends and AHHHHHH, I want to die!”
I tried to pretend as if I hadn’t seen him and sang every song with my eyes closed.
About halfway through the “performance” (ha! Ha!) I had a solo and had to leave my place on the stage to walk up to the mic. I walked up, sang my part (with my eyes closed) and walked back to my spot on the stage.
Um, that shouldn’t have been a big deal, but I was MORTIFIED and embarrassed, because “OMIGOD! Johnny just watched me sing a song about Jesus with a head covering on!” and so, when I went to stand back in my spot, I took one too many steps backwards and fell of the stage.
I fell. Off. Of. The. Stage. With. A. Head. Covering. On. My. Stupid. Head. In. Front. Of. Johnny. Oh. Emm. Gee.
That was pretty much the most embarrassing moment of my life, right after the time that I slipped in front of the entire church trying to get a Twinkie.
I avoided Johnny for weeks at school. I had no idea what to say to him or if he’d run away laughing at me. You see, I was ashamed to be associated with that church and all of it's craziness. It wasn't about being ashamed of God, or of my love of Jesus, it was the insanity of having to do things like "cover my head" or "dance for Jesus."
When I finally did come face to face with Johnny, he didn’t say a word about it. He just said hi and I said hi back and we talked for a little while as if “It” had never happened.
But we both knew “it” had and I worried every day that Johnny would one day decide to spill the beans and tell the whole school what had happened.
Looking back, it probably would have been a GOOD thing if Johnny had exposed me as the Jesus song singin’ Amish girl that I was. Maybe people would have stopped calling me Hamburger Helper.
I’m just glad Johnny didn’t show up the night I had to Wash Peoples Feet and apologize for all the wrongs I had done to them.
I'm a first time visitor. I just wanted to let you know this post had me cackling like a hen!