A Sight to Behold

I was a sight to behold.

I was scheduled to meet at a parking lot at 9:15 to carpool with some ladies to a nearby city. I had offered to drive since my vehicle would accommodate most of the group. I had mistakenly determined that I had time to workout before I left in the morning and by the time I left my house I was running behind. I threw my knee high boots in the car with my lunch and sped away, driving in my stocking feet.

I arrived just as they were gathering as a group before departure. I pulled up, threw my boots on my feet, turned around to the back seat and saw the stray magazines, rice cakes, puzzle pieces and booster seat strewn all over. I jumped out, car still running, and tried to hurriedly collect the embarrassment that had overcome my vehicle. As I was frantically junk collecting, one of the ladies came around to the side of my car and said they wanted to say a prayer before they left. Having already made them late, I tromped around to the group, boots unzipped, arms full of garbage and a car seat, laughingly stated, "Well, I'm a mother!" and bowed my head to pray.

Now this was the first time I had met some of these women, the first time I would spend any time with most of them and I was a mess. But the reality was at that precise moment I could do nothing to change it. Yes, I could have gotten up a half an hour earlier to be sure I had time to work out, I could have skipped my workout and cleaned out my car and perfected my outfit before I left. I could have done a hundred different things to ensure that moment didn't happen, but I honestly had done the best I could that morning. And because I recognized that I had done all I could and still came up lacking, all I could do was laugh. I thought, well, if they don't like me after this, they never would have liked me anyway! I ended up having a lovely drive chatting and sharing with these women. I let the tragic moment go so that I could embrace the remainder of the future.

It's taken me years to have this kind of a moment. In the past, I would have been mortified for days, weeks over the fact I was so humiliated and my car was a mess. I would have avoided those women ever after, worried about what they had thought or still thought of me. But I've come to realize that perfection is overrated and there is too little time or energy to waste on worry - especially worrying about what others think.

As I was dropping everyone off later that afternoon, one woman chuckled that she would never forget how I looked standing there, boots unzipped, arms filled with vehicular overflow bowing my head to pray. I hope I never do either. I hope whenever I start to feel the panic of perfection rising up within me, I will take a deep breath, unzip my boots, laugh a little and bow my head to pray.