Monday, January 3, 2011

Possessive Pew Person

A Dollar’s Worth
By Alisa Dollar

I never suspected I’d be a possessive pew-dweller hugger.

Yesterday I found I might be.

Bree, Speedy, husband and I generally sit on the 2nd row, right side of the pulpit. Yesterday, the pianist’s friend was in our seats!

I was in the nursery waiting for the nursery worker and Bree came to give me the news. We were going to be sitting on the front row.

“What?” I don’t think I’d ever sat on the front row.

“It’s either that or ask that man to move.” Bree sighed.

“You think he would?”

She refused to ask, so front row it would be.

I never dreamed so many things came into actuality on that row.

There was no place to hang my feet. There was no place to put my coffee to readily reach. There was just no place to hide writing notes.

Mind you, not notes back and forth (okay maybe one or two); but notes on future writing projects or grocery lists or even notes on the sermon.

I sincerely hope the preacher thought my note taking was on his well delivered discourse. I should’ve known better because of the twinkle in his eye as he walked my way was surely to alert he was on to me!

This does not by any means denote when on the second row I’m actually hiding anything. It’s just that on the front row, one feels so vulnerable and exposed. Open to finger pointing. Although my preacher doesn’t point fingers, I mentally felt them yesterday. It was though he automatically took this row as the accountability row.

The way I see it, I can get into enough trouble by myself without having any extra guilt, pressure, or wrongdoings thrown my way.

That front pew added pounds of responsibility. I even looked back once noticing a few empty seats available. However they were on the wrong side which is another malfunction in my pew selecting. I can’t hear as well on the other side. All in my head I know.

The front row pew blues is all in my head as well.

I fully intend to be there early and snag our seats next Sunday. Maybe even ask pianist boyfriend to move.

I already feel the nagging voice of God saying “Does it really matter what row?”

Have you ever won an argument with God?

Me either.

No comments:

Post a Comment