Dear God, I’m Sorry I Farted in Church When I Was 7

You’re already laughing, aren’t you Mom?!?

Summer 1975, we were visiting my grandparents just outside of Chicago.

After 2 days of car-sickness from me and my sister (think Exorcist) we enjoyed a few days with Grandma and Grandpa.

When Sunday morning rolled around, Mom packed us up to go to a pretty cool ‘in the round’ church.

At the most inopportune moment (that being a silent one), my body decided to exorcise its own demon (which was not silent).

Why I am re-living this moment today?

I guess I never apologized to my Mom (or God) for this breach of my britches in a sacred place.

We’ve all done things for which we are sorry…especially if they embarrassed others.

Sometimes we vehemently defend ourselves, proclaiming our innocence no matter how high the lies pile up, when we should just come clean and admit it…allowing the healing of our egos and integrity to begin.

Was it YOU who scratched the car? Broke the furniture? Ate the last piece of pizza? Stole your sister’s boyfriend? Cheated on that test? Forgot to send that birthday card? Fed the dog chili?

All we have to do is ‘man up’ (or ‘woman up’ for the ladies), admit our guilt, and move on.

In the long run, I think we actually punish ourselves more than necessary, just to keep up with the lies.

Why do we do this?

I don’t know.

All I know is I feel better now.

We’re good, right God?

The next time I hear thunder, I’ll know I am forgiven…or you’re just firing one back at me.

Either way, it’ll make me smile!


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