I had intended this week to share with you more of my dental adventures. Fortunately, perhaps, that particular inspiration has now left me. Usually, I end my articles with a bit of email “wisdom”, but for this particular article I will use one to begin:

There’s nothing scarier than that split second
when you lost your balance in the shower and you think,
“They are going to find me naked.”

Picture it—summer of 1996. It was the end of my first enlightening year as principal. I learned two valuable things from school year 1995-1996: others do not always view you as you view yourself, and the ones you think you’ve helped the most are sometimes the least satisfied and most unappreciative of your efforts on their behalf. There was a point at which I almost despaired and thought of giving up, but then I put on my “big-boy britches” and jumped back into the fray.
Interestingly, both my good friend Mark Martin (the music teacher, not the race car driver) and I each received in the mail an enticing invitation to “pack our bags”. In exchange for our agreement to view a time share opportunity, we were invited to take part in a low price cruise to the Bahamas. I decided as Mr. Martin was willing to be my traveling buddy that I would treat myself after a year of insightful self-discovery.
I drove us to Orlando, our point of departure. All went well, until the last county in Georgia. That’s when I got the speeding ticket. The price of this adventure just increased for yours truly. The night of that same day, we stopped to spend the night in a motel somewhere in Florida. Seemingly, I had a lot of my brother J. C. in me, for our motel choice was not in luxury, but economy. I don’t remember the name of the establishment we graced with our overnight business, but I do remember it provided the most basic necessities.
The next morning I took a shower. One of the basic amenities missing was some form of non-skid material on the shower floor. One second I’m happily taking my shower. The next split second, oops! There went my feet. On reflex I grabbed hold of the shower curtain and discovered another missing amenity—screws to attach the shower rod to the wall. On my way down, here came the shower curtain to embrace my fall and the rod to bang me on the head.
A range of emotions quickly went through my mind. From happily “rub-a-dub-dub” or “la-da-dee-dum” to “What the (who knows)?” to “How bad am I hurt?” to “Thank God, not at all, I think.” to a string of thoughts that come to mind upon discovery that there is no injury but insult at the ludicrous ridicule and indignity to which I’d been exposed.
Let’s not overestimate the “exposed” part here. I probably locked the bathroom door (if a door lock was an available amenity). Even if Mr. Martin could have entered to see my state, I had the wet shower curtain wrapped around me like saran wrap. He gently tapped on the bathroom door and said, “Uh, are you hurt?”
A Christian should be grateful for not being hurt, but my carnal (human) nature was aroused by the incident. Even though Mr. Martin had no real idea of what had happened to me, my sarcastic nature prevailed as I thought, “No. I’m not hurt. I just risked being maimed for life just to take a shower so I wouldn’t smell like a skunk to go on down the road to who knows what next disaster awaits.” It’s amazing how many thoughts can go through a person’s mind in a few split seconds. I yelled out at Mr. Martin, “BLANK no, I’m not hurt.” (You’d really be surprised how mild was the word with which I filled the blank. Truly I say this.)
For the record, Martin and Mincey made the rest of the trip to and from the Bahamas, whether on land or sea, without incident. Upon my return home, I discovered that I wasn’t the only one who had bad experiences. Sitting in the middle of my living room was my poor sister Anna Mae, who had survived a car wreck, though not without some significant bruises and possibly a broken bone. Also, I found out that my aunt Vallie had passed away. Humbled until my next round with carnality, I discovered that, as the closing Hee Haw theme used to say, my “pleasures” were “many”, my “troubles . . . few”, and that I didn’t have to look far to see someone in worse shape than I.
Unfortunately, there were to be many more incidents in life, some greater than others, in which I found myself in need of humbling. This very day, I was privileged to see a fellow graduate of my high school class, to whose medical condition anything I suffer pales in comparison. That led me to think of other friends in poor health, the serious needs on the church prayer list. I leave you, for the moment, at least, once again humbled.
I wish for you, Faithful Reader, a long life full of peace and God’s grace. I leave you with what was until this moment the final bit of my wisdom from email:

Life is not perfect. Life is not easy, but... Life is good!